


Baby of Mine

by Simplyable



Category: Unus Annus - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daycare, Angst, Anorexia, Bisexual Male Character, Eating Disorders, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mark is a single parent, New York City, Romance, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Discovery, Single Parents, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 271,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24507577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simplyable/pseuds/Simplyable
Summary: Ethan is just a simple ‘fresh out of college’ kid…if you could even call him that. After all, he’s sure it doesn’t count considering he was kicked out. After landing a job at a daycare center three months ago, Ethan is just looking to find somewhere he belongs, all while battling an eating disorder.Mark is hardly the perfect image of the American dream. Living in an apartment as a single father and dropping his daughter off at daycare every morning just so he can work to barely make an income isn’t what he imagined he would become. All Mark is looking for is someone who can love both him and his daughter.Although the two hardly know it yet, they both will find themselves the mysterious answer to the other’s equation. Who knew love could be so confusing?
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 693
Kudos: 980





	1. Disorderly Conduct

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to "Baby of Mine"! This is the first chapter of _many_ to come, so I hope you guys stick around. Add this to your bookshelf, or don't. I don't mind. Hoping to break my own record for word count, while keeping the wonderful chapter style from "Fifty Feet in the Air"
> 
> Don't appreciate this book?  
> Check out [Fifty Feet in the Air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006493/chapters/57751954)
> 
> Enjoy!

Ethan sighed contently, watching as his breath fogged up in front of his eyes before blowing behind him with the wind, being swept away in the city. Goddamn, as much as the young brunette hated winter, considering how utterly miserable it made his commute to work, since he couldn’t afford to take a taxi every morning or ride the subway…he had to admit, it made the city more lively than ever. In a weird sort of way, of course. Sure enough, it was the same people who commuted every day…but everyone always seemed to be in a cheerful mood; if that even made any sense. Sure enough, the holidays were only around the corner. He supposed with holidays came people exciting about exchanging gifts, having family over, sharing a meal with someone…all the shit that was supposed to make the young man excited himself, even though it didn’t. The young brunette’s family didn’t seem quite happy to see him, considering the incident that centered around his college education, and Ethan couldn’t exactly blame them. If they didn’t want to see him, it was fine by him. Spending Christmas alone was honestly the least of the young man’s worries. Being able to keep a _job_ was the only thing on the young brunette’s plate. He hadn’t done anything wrong, of course; at least, not that he knew of.

Ethan took a sip of coffee, making sure to hold the cup firmly in his grasp as he weaved through the sea of citizens, each one of them either currently on the phone, or holding a briefcase in their hand. Important business people, it seemed. _Always_ important business people. The type of women that wore obsidian black stilettos, which was enough to make the young man’s heart jumped whenever the heel went near any of the grates. The kind of women with pencil skirts that looked impossible to walk in, paired with neatly tucked in shirts and a blazer to match. A string of pearls, like they had stepped out from a version of time in a vintage era, with earrings that would match their other jewelry and would brighten their eyes. Lipstick that popped, tights that slimmed down their figure, all paired with a briefcase that made them look important. And, of course, there were the men. The ones who wore tailored pants that could pay Ethan’s monthly rent…the ones who wore button-down shirts, tucked in just as neat as the woman’s, with blazer held with a button that he knew would come undone the second they walked into the office. The men who wore expensive watches that they collected, although they never used to check the time…the pewter and silver ones, matched perfectly with the indigo background underneath the dial. Dotted or stripes ties, either navy blue or mahogany, and a handkerchief or set of pens tucked neatly into the pocket of their suit jacket, as if it made a difference. As if people would give two shits if their pens were merlot, crimson, admiral, or onyx. Ethan surely didn’t.

Businessmen and women who hardly did anything were the ones that Ethan could never appreciate. The ones that would sit in their offices, ones that were more spacious than the rest, and would perch behind their desk without a care in the world. They never checked their fucking watches because they never needed to, and the young brunette knew that well enough. They were the ones privileged enough to show up late because the job they did wasn’t important enough to call them in early. They could have normal shift times because they were the head of their division. They got paid more than the people underneath them, just to make sure that the businessmen and women underneath them were working away as they always were. Bending over backward to reach deadlines, rushing through the streets, and trying to dodge as many people as they could, just so they could get to work on time. Those were the men and women that Ethan found himself respecting the most. The ones that could skip a morning cup of coffee, just so they could get to work on time. Just so they could slave away with hopes that they wouldn’t get fired, and with hopes that they would have enough money to pay rent and feed their family.

Ethan supposed he didn’t quite have the right to be listing out the jobs that he respected and didn’t respect, especially considering his position; he had only held his job working at a daycare center for the past three months, and he had been hopping from job to job before that for what seemed to be every other month. The young brunette just couldn’t seem to keep one. The young man originally believed that it had never been his fault each time he got fired…but now that looked to be the only explanation, considering it happened so often. Ethan was stubborn. The rest of him was almost a full-package deal, apart from the fact that he got kicked out of college, but he was stubborn. If he didn’t like something, he wouldn’t tolerate it. If he didn’t want to do something he was asked to do, he simply wouldn’t do it. Ethan did the bare minimum at each of his jobs, never even bothering to go ‘above and beyond’. At least, that was what his employers had always insisted whenever he ended up in their office what seemed to be every other day, where they would try to convince him to start _‘doing more for himself’._ Not like Ethan had paid any of his employers any attention, of course, and this went for every job he had found himself placed in. Working as a waiter at a series of different restaurants, cleaning dishes, slinging ice cream at a parlor, working behind a bar once he was old enough…the list could go on forever, really.

It’s not that he _purposely_ wanted to get fired repeatedly. No. He always tried his best…but his best was always the bare minimum. He had never been quick enough for bussing tables, or carrying hot plates. The number of times he had dropped food on a customer was more than enough to speak for itself. Ethan was never good at cleaning dishes, always scratching them up…and, according to his boss, he was ‘ _never perfect at scooping ice cream_ ’, whatever the hell that meant. Working behind a bar had been fun. It always excited him when he got to ID people, which lead to them getting kicked out half the time. Part of him would feel sympathetic, considering he had once been in their position when he was younger, but he didn’t give a shit. Ethan didn’t quite know why he had been fired from his bartending position, but the young brunette hardly complained whenever he got fired. It wasn’t like he wore his heart on his sleeve. He would simply nod, hand in whatever name tag he frequently used, as well as the uniform, and he would leave. Then, the cycle would repeat itself for Ethan Nestor, where he would frantically attempt to find a new job, just so he could have enough money to pay rent. Working minimum wage wasn’t exactly ideal, but money was money, and he would take what he could get. Working freelance never really suited him.

Ethan took another sip of coffee. It was really the only thing he could stomach in the morning, considering that it was nothing heavy. The young man wasn’t what one would call a breakfast person…or a lunch person…or a dinner person. One wouldn’t call him an eating person, to say the least. It wasn’t like he did it accidentally either; it wasn’t one of those things where he skipped a meal because he was too busy, or he just forgot to eat lunch because he got caught up in cleaning the house. Ethan didn’t eat because eating food made him feel _gross_. Not the _process_ of eating food, but what it did to him. Food made people gain weight, he knew that well enough. The young brunette had no intention of gaining weight, so eating food was always something he struggled with. Managing to stomach a cup of coffee in the morning was one thing, sure…but eating a whole meal? That was a different subject entirely, one that the young brunette himself had no intention in touching on. It was something he had struggled with ever since he was in high school. He didn’t know _why_ he had struggled with it; it wasn’t like the young brunette had a dramatic past that affected the decisions he made, to say the least.

His background was fine. Ethan was never overweight as a child, so part of him never fully understood why he had such an _obsession_ with skipping meals…an obsession with standing on a scale and watching the numbers fluctuate…an obsession with barely eating. The young brunette supposed that he would never fully understand it. It wasn’t like Ethan had made no attempts of stopping his habits, of course. He would find himself at least trying to eat something _small_ during meals, even if it hardly gave him any nutritional value…but the young brunette would always end up on his knees in front of a toilet, choking it back up again. _Awful_ habits. But Ethan didn’t think of that. He just proudly took another sip of his coffee, content that whatever was wrong with him didn’t affect what he drank; at least he would have the energy he needed for the day. Nothing in it, nothing added, none of the sugary shit. Just coffee. It didn’t taste very good, but Ethan couldn’t imagine stomaching all of the fake shit that people loaded their coffee with. It was enough to make him sick just thinking about it…so he stuck to what he was used to. He stuck to what was familiar, and what he knew well enough he would appreciate. 

Ethan continued to maneuver through the swarms of people, almost all of them now eager as her to get to their destination, something that seemed to occur at the last second. The young brunette glanced around, taking in a content sigh. As loud as the city was in the morning, with the deafening trumpeting of horns that filled the streets, mixed in with the thunderous sound of construction working on the roads…he had to admit that it was a beautiful sight. New York City, as always, was a city of wide avenues and big dreams, although it always seemed to come with small-minded people. The sidewalks were anything but relaxing at that time of the morning, but the pavement underneath his feet was enough to make the young man happy as he glanced at skyscrapers that would tower above them, reaching up at the dreams every citizen longed to claim for themselves. Ethan knew the city by heart, of course, navigating through the sidewalks by intersection and aroma; most would find it impossible to get around, but he managed. Most of the streets were the same, though. The same sidewalk, paired with the same style of building, although the flickering lights of the storefront signs would always falter depending where he was. Nevertheless, as mentioned, he managed, keeping his backpack on. The young brunette didn’t really know why he brought it with him. It wasn’t like Ethan was a student anymore, who depended on the bag to hold his laptop and textbooks so they wouldn’t spill out into a hallway. It wasn’t exactly _embarrassing_ what he had in his backpack, as long as the person opening it knew his occupation.

It was nothing more than a series of coloring books, each one with pages ripped out of half-scribbled, and an assortment of crayons that had been chipped, broken, the paper ripped off of, or even chewed by some of the younger children. Erasers and safety scissors, a few picture books that none of the children felt like touching because, let’s be honest, what kid would rather read a book when they could be coloring, and stickers. None of the kids even _touched_ half of the stuff in his backpack, but he brought it nevertheless because there was always an odd one out among the group who found things fascinating. Ethan had been that kid when he was younger, so he knew well enough he couldn’t just leave them hanging. Of course, his phone was also stuffed in there, along with a set of headphones for if he was allowed a ten-minute break. Not to be taken the wrong way, but Ethan could hardly stand a few of the children there. Kids would be kids, of course, but they were frustrating. Always breaking things, as well as ripping almost every piece of paper they could get their hands on, and not to mention _shouting._ Dear God, the shouting was almost unbearable. At each other, at him, at nothing at all. Children were impossible to understand, Ethan knew that well enough now.

Ethan took a final sip of his coffee before tossing the disposable cup into a trashcan as he continued walking down the sidewalk. Now, his hands were free to shove into his pockets, which was quite honestly a relief, considering how bitterly cold it was. He glanced around, noticing the people who walked beside him or against him, moving through the crowd just the same as he was. The young brunette hummed, reaching his hand out of his pocket and into the side pouch of his backpack, where he kept his phone. Ethan had to admit, it wasn’t exactly the _smartest_ place to keep his phone, considering that anyone could easily pickpocket him and he would have never noticed, but he was sure that none of the people who walked beside him would even see that his phone was there. He looked down at it, taking a quick glance at the time before returning his gaze to the sidewalk ahead of him. 8:45. The daycare was only a block away, and he _had_ to have been there by 8:40, but he was sure nobody was going to care. The young brunette couldn’t help but chuckle softly from his mentality. This was most likely the reason why he couldn’t keep a job. Part of him was stubborn when he needed to go with the flow, and the other part of him was carefree when he needed to be doing something serious. The grass was always greener on the other side of the fence, the supposed.

Ethan let out another content sigh, listening to the horns honking as if it were music to his ears. Maybe, one day, he would be able to find a place to fit in along with the sounds of the city. He would be able to find a job that would mean something to him, where people could look up to him and he could feel important. Working with children meant being looked up to, he supposed…but not in the way that Ethan wanted. He knew well enough it would never happen, though. He had gotten kicked out of college…with hardly enough education to his name, there wasn’t a place in New York City that would offer him an important title without a diploma. Most of them would hardly accept graduates who had only a bachelor’s degree, something that Ethan had been so foolish as to not receive. He could have gone back to college, too. The young brunette’s parents had offered to pay for his college tuition, where he would be able to at _least_ get a bachelor’s degree at a different school. Ethan had turned down the offer…and ever since, he had regretted it because he knew well enough his parents would no longer be so willing as to propose the arrangement again. If only he had taken it while when he could have. Now, Ethan knew that going to college would mean wasting the rest of his life away just to pay off the debts…he would live in ruins. There would be no escaping the payment, he knew that well enough. So…he couldn’t. He couldn’t go back to school. Although it would provide him an education, he would be burdened with student loans that he knew he would never be able to repay.

Being tied down to debts was something that the young brunette didn’t want to mess around with. As if rent wasn’t expensive enough, it didn’t help that the young man was making less than minimum wage, and still getting away with it. It all had to do with a ‘tipping’ process, which Ethan himself didn’t even understand, but he couldn’t question it. The man had received raises before, and he was on the brink of a minimum wage, he could taste it. Until then, he did what he was told, kept his mouth shut unless he had something positive to say, and showed up every day for work. His shift lasted from 5:40 - 4 PM, except for today, due to the fact that Tyler had agreed to take the earlier part of his shift for him. A whole scenario behind it, of course, but the young brunette had made sure not to get much into it. Ethan smiled contently as he found himself approaching the daycare center, and it wasn’t even for show. As frustrating as children were, he always enjoyed being able to see a few of them. Some among them would be Henry Winters, Alice Green, and, his favorite, Charlotte. She was there every day from when the daycare center opened to when it closed, and she was awfully darling. Well mannered, to say the very least. Respectful, empathetic, very selfless for her age. Always sharing everything that was given to her, and always more than willing to hold a conversation, unlike the other kids who were often too shy to speak. Advanced for her age, at only five years old. Personality-wise, of course. She wasn’t Einstein. 

Ethan drew in a deep breath as he opened the front door to the daycare center, being greeted with the warm air of the lobby. His dramatic sigh of relief was noticed by Rebecca, the older woman who worked avidly behind the counter, and was always fed up with the fact that the young brunette could never seem to show up on time. Nevertheless, the man didn’t pay her any attention as he took off his jacket, closing the door behind him so he wouldn’t let the cold in. “It’s _freezing_ out there,” he mentioned thoughtfully, gesturing his head outside before he walked over to the coatrack, gingerly hanging his jacket from one of the hooks. “I swear, it’s either the work of Jack Frost or the devil, but I’ll take the latter.” Rebecca simply rolled her eyes in return. “Could you sign me in, Becky?” He questioned, taking his phone out from the side pouch of his backpack and slipping it into his back pocket. “I think my hands are too freezing to even grip a pen if I wanted to.”

“Something tells me you’re perfectly capable of doing that yourself, Mr. Nestor,” Rebecca replied dryly, gesturing her hand to the admiral blue pen that rested gently on the clipboard on the front desk. All parents and those who worked there were required to sign in and out when they dropped off their child or started a shift, and when they picked up their kid or ended a shift. That was just how everything went. “You’re lucky that you even got Mr. Scheid to cover for you. Yet, despite now even having to show up to work for three hours past your due date, you _still_ manage to arrive seven minutes late.” Her expression was stern and serious as she motioned down to the slip of paper. “Sign in yourself, kid.” The young man grimaced slightly, walking over to the front desk and reaching for the pen.

“Good morning to you, too, Becky,” Ethan announced in return, his voice sardonic as he uncapped the pen, resting the top aside gently as he signed his name. He glanced up at the clock on the wall, jotting down the time exactly beside his signature, something that he had become accustomed to for the past three months. Sometimes he forgot if Rebecca wasn’t there to remind him, but she was almost always there to nag on him for the things that slipped his mind. He was awfully forgetful. “Did we get those band-aids yet?” He questioned thoughtfully, glancing up from the clipboard as he recapped his pen, resting it down on the sheet of paper. “If another kid manages to cut themselves with _safety scissors_ , I’m going to be convinced that they’re purposely trying to get me fired. How can someone cut themselves with safety scissors?” The older woman rolled her eyes in return, although she smiled a bit and gave him a shrug of her shoulders.

“Kids will always manage a way to do something intentionally stupid, and then act surprised when it goes wrong,” she mentioned in return, resting her hands on her hips. “I think Jack brought in some band-aids for his shift yesterday, but I would check the supply closet. I could either be making it up, or he could have been forgetful enough to not store them away.” Ethan nodded in understanding, glancing over her shoulder at the back room. “Before you ask,” she continued, “ _no_ , there’s no adult supervision. The safety scissors are on a high shelf, they can hardly manage to find a way to kill themselves. I made sure of it.” Ethan groaned in annoyance. “What did you expect me to do, Nestor? Leave the front desk unattended so I could cover ten minutes of your shift? Scheid had other places to be, and I wasn’t going to hold him up just because you decided not to come into work on time. They’re fine.”

“That should be considered neglect,” Ethan mentioned, although he was half-joking. “As you said, Becky, they’ll _always_ manage a way to do something intentionally stupid. For all we know they could be ripping books up and choking on them.” The older woman chuckled softly, shrugging her shoulders as she glanced back to her computer. The young man knew well enough she was pissing around on it, so it’s not like it made any difference. “People pay for their children to be taken care of,” then young man continued thoughtfully, resting his hands on his hips, even though he knew well enough the entire situation could be solved if he would just go to the back room.

“Oh yeah?” Rebecca returned, not glancing away from her computer as she typed away on the keys, her fingers flying across the keyboard. She was writing an email to someone. “Well, Nestor, if you want to play Superman, I can assure you that the children are in there just _waiting_ for someone to rescue them. Waste their time, not mine.” Ethan snorted, recollecting himself as he walked by her desk, glancing over his left shoulder in attempts to take a look at what she was writing. “Mind your own business, Nestor,” Rebecca reminded him sharply. The man chuckled softly, rolling his eyes as he did what he was told. God, part of him could swear that she had eyes in the back of her head or something. There was no logical explanation. Nevertheless, he walked to the back door, turning the handle and opening it. This was what Ethan liked to consider the ‘closet of Narnia’. On one end, everything looked incredibly professional. Sleek countertops of a front desk, where there was barely anything cluttering it. Just the clipboard, a computer, a simple chair, and a fishbowl that didn’t even have _fish_ in it. Nothing exciting, and it was paired with two chairs against the wall, as if anyone would be actually _waiting around_ for their child to be retrieved from the play area, where Ethan was heading to.

The young man opened the door, instantly being greeted by vibrant colors and childlike things, as he did every day. The brunette couldn’t help but smile as he stepped into the fairly large room, closing the door behind him. The curtains were drawn, as usual, light pouring into the room. The young man dropped his backpack beside the small cubbie section of the room, where children would put drawings they made, reminding themselves to take them home later. Ethan glanced around the room, surprised to see that everyone wasn’t in disarray, considering Rebecca hadn’t checked on them since Tyler left. A few of the boys had gathered on the carpet, sitting in a circle as they passed a few toy cars amongst themselves, boasting about which one of theirs was better and faster, even though they were the same thing with just different colors. To match was a group of girls sitting by a dollhouse, each of them holding a doll and trying to decide who would be the mom, along with who got to be the older sister. A challenging decision, Ethan was very sure. There were only nine kids in the room. The three boys, the three girls, and a boy and a girl who were sitting together and reading. The odd ones out, Ethan supposed. And then, of course, Charlotte Fischbach, who sat by herself by the table, coloring away at a sheet of paper. The young man smiled softly, walking over to the table gently. 

“Whatcha drawing, Charlotte?” Ethan questioned gently. He knelt beside the table, since he had no intention of trying to fit into a chair that was too small for him. The thought was embarrassing enough by itself. The young girl looked upon from the page she was coloring, her dark almond eyes twinkling happily at the sight of Ethan, which once again reminded the young brunette why she was his favorite. Charlotte sat up in the chair, shifting as she repositioned the skirt of her periwinkle dress, the one with orchid and iris lining on the sleeves and waist, adorned with the imprints of lavender and amethyst shaded flowers. It was her favorite dress, in fact, and Ethan knew that well enough considering how she always brought it up whenever she wore it. It was, of course, paired with porcelain ankle socks and lilac purple shoes. Her wrist was adorned with a rosewood shaded charm bracelet, her hair tied into two uneven pigtails. It was obvious that someone else had picked out her outfit, although her hair looked as if she had done it herself, the mulberry elastics crooked. It suited her though. Children had the ability to look adorable in almost anything they wore, and that was all due to her age. 

“You,” Charlotte chirped in return, her voice cheerful as she slid the slip of paper over to the young brunette. Ethan gave a warm smile, his eyes directing down to the page of a stick figure with scribbles. “I didn’t have brown…so your hair is green.” Ethan chuckled softly, picking up the sheet of paper gingerly as he looked at the drawing. Sure enough, his hair was an odd shade of chartreuse, maybe lime, but he didn’t mind it too much. If anything, it only made the drawing better. The curve of his smile was fuscia, and the outline of his body was done in graphite. He was wearing a crimson red shirt, which hadn’t been fully colored in, as well as aegean blue pants, with the young man could assume were supposed to be jeans. “Do ya like it?” She asked softly, her voice hopeful as she waited patiently for an answer. Ethan rested the drawing back on the table, returning it to Charlotte as he slid it over, a smile still present on his face.

“I love it,” he assured her, the young girl straightened up in her chair. The young man smiled softly, gesturing his head over to another slip of paper that could be seen beside her. “What about that one?” Ethan questioned. “Did you draw that?”

Charlotte smiled, her eyes lighting up as she reached for it. “Uh-huh,” she returned proudly. She slid it over to Ethan. The young brunette looked down at it contently. It was of a person, similar to the drawing of him. The man’s hair was once again drawn in the chanteuse shade, so Ethan couldn’t really tell who the picture was supposed to be of. However, he noticed how the man was wearing grey clothing, and what appeared to be a navy blue tie. A businessman, possibly. “That’s my daddy,” Charlotte mentioned happily. “They don’t have my hair color crayon, so I used green again.” Ethan chuckled softly. He had never met Mr. Fischbach before. “He’s wearin’ a suit.”

“I can see that,” Ethan mentioned thoughtfully. “And a blue tie.”

“Uh-huh,” the young girl added happily. 

“Did he pick out your outfit today?” Ethan asked gently, watching as the young girl nodded happily. “Well, your daddy has a very good sense of style,” the young man joked, watching as Charlotte grinned happily in return, her eyes crinkling as she smiled wide. “And who did your hair?”

“My daddy,” Charlotte said proudly. Ethan stifled his laughter. “He didn’t do a good job, though,” she mentioned. The young man shrugged his shoulders in return, acting as if he hadn’t noticed as the young girl continued talking. “He was ‘posed to do braids, but he doesn’t know how to do that, so he did pigtails.” 

“Well, I think they look lovely,” Ethan added gently.

“Do you know howda braid?” Charlotte asked hopefully. The young man thought about it for a few seconds. He supposed he had braided enough friendship bracelets for the girls in his class when he was younger to know what he was doing. That had been years ago, of course, but he supposed it was like riding a bicycle. You don’t just _forget_ how to braid things. So, the young man nodded his head in return, watching as Charlotte straightened up, smiling cheerfully. “Can you braid my hair?” She asked hopefully, not even waiting for an answer as she started tugging out her elastics. The young man chuckled softly as he watched her eagerly put the bands on the table. Ethan nodded his head, reaching over for one of them. “Yay,” she said softly, her dark hair falling below her shoulders. The young man giggled breathlessly as he shifted over, still on his knees as he kneeled behind the chair she was sitting in, gently brushing her hair together with one hand.

“You have to give your daddy credit, though,” Ethan mentioned jokingly. “I don’t think I could get pigtails to look perfect, even if I tried. Your daddy’s a fashion designer, Charlotte. Not a hairdresser.” The girl squealed from the joke.

“He works with numbers,” she giggles.

“Is that so?” Ethan hummed, separating her hair into three segments. 

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, you can tell your daddy that I think he did a _lovely_ job with your hair and outfit,” Ethan insisted jokingly, starting to braid her hair as the young girl sat still for him. “It’s to die for.” Charlotte simply giggled, returning to her drawing as the young brunette braided her hair. The young man smiled. Times like these made his job worth it.


	2. Cross My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter is up, in the same day of course. You're going to be seeing Mark's P.O.V. in the next chapter, which is usually something I don't do, but I want to switch back and forth between the two characters periodically.

Ethan hummed softly, repacking his backpack near the cubbies as he was preparing to leave. He closed the coloring books carefully, making sure none of the pages got dog-eared or torn as he slipped them inside. Followed by the assortment of crayon colors he had pulled out for Charlotte, one of which being the umber brown shade she had been searching for so desperately in the crayon box that the daycare center owned. That box itself was missing several other colors, including yellow. Either a child had mistakingly taken it home in their pocket, or had broken it beyond repair, or even eaten it; Ethan wouldn’t have been surprised if it was the latter. Of course, there was always the possibility that he was simply overused, something that happened commonly when nothing seemed to be replaced. Nothing of such minor importance, of course. The daycare center made a point of being stocked up in everything they needed when it came to essentials. Bandaids, which Sean had thankfully remembered to bring the previous day, towels to clean up accidents, whether it be the bathroom or just spilled juice, and EpiPens, in case any of the children were allergic to anything and their parents forgot to pack them one of their own. Ethan appreciated knowing there were so many on-site, especially considering his own peanut allergy.

Ethan gently pulled his phone out of his pocket, something that he hadn’t quite checked throughout the day. He had made a point of trying to interact with the kids more, especially considering that was what he was getting paid to do. At the end of the day, it was hardly that bad. Getting paid fourteen dollars an hour to braid hair, reorganize dollhouses, put in a movie for kids to watch, and sorting through the crayon box to find a specific color was hardly anything he was slaving over. Flipping through picture books on a vibrant carpet that marked the alphabet, or trying his best to sing whatever songs the children wanted him to. Swallowing his pride by wearing a tiara…attempting to teach kids how to play chess, and not being surprised when they didn’t understand…sorting through stuffed animals to see which ones were the best and declaring them the _Stuffed Animal Pageant Winner_ , whatever that even meant. It was the easiest job in the world, and the young brunette was starting to realize that. It wasn’t anything like bartending or being a waiter. He didn’t have to do anything that required strength, or required a good memory so he wouldn’t have to go flipping through a cocktail book.

The young man wasn’t really good with remembering things. Well, things of little importance, of course. Ethan could remember his name well enough. He knew what street he lived on, as well as his apartment number. He knew his phone number, and the names of his friends, and the names of people who he had become close with. Ethan remembered things throughout the day that he needed to do, like getting coffee or packing his bag the night before. Those were the things he was alright with, since he was so familiar with them. Other things he wasn’t too keen at remembering. The names of people who he had just met. He would often meet parents who would come to pick up their children during the middle of the day, usually after going somewhere for a quick arrangement with someone else, instead of going to work…and Ethan would know that he had seen them before. He would remember them picking up their child from a previous date, but he just couldn’t remember their name. Of course, it made the young brunette feel nothing short of embarrassment when it occurred, but it wasn’t like he was doing it all intentionally. Names were just something he had struggled with. However, Ethan thought nothing of it as he zipped up his backpack, humming contently.

He shifted, standing up ad holding the straps firmly in his grasp. The young brunette hoisted the bag up, slinging it onto his shoulder before adjusting the weight on his arms. Sean was most likely waiting outside to pick up the younger brunette’s shift; and, if he wasn’t, Ethan would stay for a few extra minutes. The young brunette liked to make sure there was always someone watching them, at all times. If he ever needed to go to the bathroom, he would go to the lobby and ask Rebecca to quickly watch the kids, even though he knew well enough it wouldn’t even take a minute. There had been someone who used to work there, and Ethan could only remember his name due to how much of a douchebag he was, who would often just leave them alone in the room for minutes at a time. Although everyone who worked there knew that the children would _theoretically_ be alright if left alone for a few minutes, that wasn’t the point of it all. They were supposed to be watched attentively, which was why Ethan always tried his best when he worked at the daycare center. He, Sean, and Tyler seemed to be some of the only people working there who actually cared about the wellbeing of the children they looked after. Rebecca too, although everyone knew she would rather be off doing something else than sitting behind a desk for the entire day.

“Are you leaving?” Ethan heard someone ask softly from behind him. The young brunette hummed in return, glancing over his shoulder and noticing Charlotte standing shyly behind him, holding the drawing she had made of him loosely in her right hand. The young man couldn’t help but give a soft smile, crouching down gently so he was eye-level with the young girl. Ethan had hated it when adults had always overlooked him when he was a child himself, so he always made a point of getting on their level. It made kids feel less vulnerable…at least, that had always worked for Ethan he was younger.

“Afraid so,” Ethan admitted, giving a dramatic sigh. Charlotte giggled softly, her braided hair resting gently on her shoulder. “Tell your daddy that there are good braiding tutorials he can find online,” Ethan recommended, watching as she nodded eagerly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Oh, and don’t forget to show him that picture you drew of him. I’m sure he’s going to be very proud of it.”

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte returned confidently, earning a soft smile from the young brunette in return. She shifted again, hesitantly holding out her hand to shyly give him the drawing. “You can keep this,” she said softly, giving a sheepish smile. The young man looked at the drawing of him, his heart melting at the mere offer. Ethan knew well enough it was really just a glorified stick figure with green hair…but it really did mean something to him, even if it sounded pathetic. “You can put it on your fridge! That’s what my daddy does with my drawing when I bring ‘em home.” She smiled proudly before pointing to her name that had been scribbled onto the bottom of the page in a magenta shade, popping out and bringing a vibrant sense to the drawing. “I wrote my name on it, so you’ll know that I made it and so no one can copy it.” Ethan chuckled softly, nodding in understanding as he gingerly took the drawing from her. “Don’t fold it either,” Charlotte mentioned thoughtfully. “Then it gets all wrinkled, and it doesn’t get _unwrinkled_. Daddy made that mistake once, and now it doesn’t sit right on the fridge.”

“A rookie’s mistake, really,” Ethan joked, carefully taking his backpack off of his shoulder and resting it on the ground beside him. “Every _true_ art lover knows that a drawing shouldn’t be folded, and it should have it’s own special pouch when being delivered home, so it doesn’t get ruined.” He demonstrated, opening a zipper to his backpack, which was usually where he put his laptop. Instead, he slid in the drawing, showing the young girl that there was nothing else in the pouch. Ethan zipped up his backpack carefully, gently moving it onto his shoulder again. “I’ll make sure to hang this on my fridge as soon as I get home.” He paused, smiling gingerly. “My fridge doesn’t have any drawings on it. Did you know that?” Charlotte’s eyes lit up as she shook her head. “Well, I suppose now you know that yours will be the _first_ to go on my fridge. I’ll make sure it has a special place, right in the center.”

Charlotte giggled happily, walking over to Ethan and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, giving him a hug as he crouched down beside her. The young brunette’s eyes widened slightly with surprise from the gesture, noticing how none of the other kids even bothered to come toddling over and say goodbye. They were in their own little world, of course; playing with dolls and arguing over whose turn it was to hold a certain stuffed animal…but Charlotte was hugging him. The young man let out a content sigh, hesitantly giving her a gentle hug in return. He was prepared to pull away if she tensed up, but she didn’t. The young girl just giggled happily. Ethan smiled softly, allowing the young girl to hug him for a few more seconds before she pulled away on her own. “How far is your house from here?”

Ethan stifled his laughter. Kids asked the darnedest things. “A few blocks,” he replied, gently patting her head as he picked up his backpack. “Which is why I should probably get going. We wouldn’t want that picture of yours to have to stay in my backpack forever, now would we?” Charlotte looked up at him, smiling and giggling as she shook her head. “That’s what I thought,” he hummed, giving a small smile. “I’ll be back again tomorrow to see you.”

“Promise?” Charlotte asked, almost as if the young brunette hadn’t been showing upon to the daycare center every day during the week for the past three months. Nevertheless, Ethan couldn’t help but smile, making an X symbol over his chest.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he returned. Charlotte giggled, nodding happily as she repeated the movement, even though she didn’t on the wrong side of her chest. The young man chuckled softly, giving a half-wave before he turned on his heels. The young man opened the door, poking his head out of the room slightly to see if Sean was waiting outside. Sure enough, Sean was sitting ub one of the waiting room chairs, scrolling through his phone. The Irish man glanced up from his device when he noticed Ethan. “They’re all yours,” the young brunette joked, slipping out of the room and gesturing his head back to it. 

“Damn right,” Sean joked.

“Language,” Ethan returned, although he smiled. “I don’t mean to boast,” he continued, resting his hands on his hips, “but I just want to make it apparent to you and shed light on the fact that Charlotte drew a picture for me today… _of me_.” Sean chuckled softly, simply rolling his eyes. “This is a feat of its own, gentlemen, it should be taken seriously and viewed with utmost importance.” Rebecca glanced up at her phone, giving him a sardonic look before she returned her gaze to whatever she was scrolling through. “I’m her favorite, to put it in simple terms.”

“Do you want a trophy?” Sean scoffed jokingly.

“Nope,” Ethan replied, gesturing his head back to one of the pouches in his backpack. “I’ve already got a drawing of me made by _her_ to prove it. She signed her name and everything; wants me to put it on my fridge.” Sean stifled his laughter for a few seconds before letting it out, shaking his head with disbelief. The young brunette couldn’t help but laugh softly along with him as he walked over to the front desk, reaching for the pen to sign up.

“Looks like you’ve finally remembered to do it on your own,” Rebecca hummed, not even glancing up from her phone. Ethan rolled his eyes, glancing up at the clock before as he had when he arrived, jotting down the time he left adjacent to the time that he got there. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, watching Sean start to walk into the back room. “You need to sign in,” the woman mentioned. Sean glanced at her over his left shoulder, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as if he was thoughtfully pondering his decisions. Rebeca gave him a look, but he quickly shook his head, giving a devilish grin before slipping into the backroom. “Sign him in,” Rebecca sighed simply, waving her wrist gently as if to may the subject no attention as her eyes merely returned to her phone.

“Forgery is illegal, Becky,” Ethan mentioned teasingly.

“Sign it, asshat,” Rebecca snapped. The younger brunette stifled his laughter, biting his lower lip as he reached for the pen again, signing Sean’s name carefully in ink, going slow as if he was signing it for the first time. The both of them knew well enough that the Irish man never signed in on his owner nd it would usually be left up to either of them to jot his signature down just to _prove_ that he had even showed up to work. “Don’t you have places to be?” She questioned, cocking an eyebrow slightly as she folded her arms loosely against her chest, leaning back in her seat. Ethan thought for a few seconds before he smiled, nodding his head in return.

“As a matter of fact, I _do_ ,” Ethan replied simply, patting his backpack gently. “Thank you for reminding me, Becky. I’ve got to get Charlotte’s picture up on my fridge _as soon as possible_. Lord knows what would happen to the drawing if it’s left in my backpack for too long.” The older woman simply rolled her eyes, not paying the brunette opposite her the satisfaction of giving him her attention. He smiled nevertheless, however, turning on his heels as he went to exit the daycare. Not, of course, without first grabbing his jacket. That only made for the awkward situation of having to stand near the daycare center outside while he put his backpack down, slipping his arms into his jacket before returning the backpack to his shoulders. The young man let out a content sigh as he breathed in the fresh, crisp air of the evening. He found himself walking with an extra bounce in his step as he walked off back to his apartment, his heart beating steadily and contently inside his chest as he went. The young man felt happier than he usually did. Ethan’s heart lifted joyfully as he walked down the sidewalk.

It was still early in the evening, so there weren’t many people moving along the pavement as there were in the morning. It was seemingly just him, his hands shoved in his front pockets, shivering gently as the breeze brushed against him. As he had mentioned to Charlotte, his apartment was only a few blocks from the daycare center. That made for a relatively quick commute, usually faster during the evening when he had the energy and the willpower to walk a bit faster. It also helped that there was no one in his way. The young brunette had witnessed the first-hand experience of people shoving others to try to move faster…he had never wanted to be one of those people. Instead, he would find himself moving with the flow of the crowd, not caring if it took him a minute or two longer to get to work. Although, he now knew well enough that Rebecca wasn’t afraid to leave the children alone by themselves for a few minutes…so he wasn’t sure how often he would allow himself to sleep in, just for the sake of getting a bit more energy. He supposed that it didn’t matter on the grand scheme of things, considering he would always have a cup of coffee in the morning to wake him up.

The young man cocked an eyebrow slightly when he felt his phone buzzing softly in his back pocket. The brunette reached his hand toward his back pocket, fishing it out and retrieving it. Someone was calling him. Ethan glanced down at the contact, a bit surprised when he realized it was Sean. It must have been something important, considering they had seen each other only a minute or two ago. It must have been spontaneous, then. The young man cleared his throat, pulling the phone to his ear as he accepted the call. “Hello?” Ethan questioned softly, brushing a hand through his hair as he waited for the Irish man to respond. “Did I leave something at the center?” He continued quickly, humming softly. “Because, if so, you can just drop it off at my apartment later on, dude. I would get back to the kids.”

Ethan heard Sean laughing softly from the other end of the phone. “No, it’s not that,” Sean replied. “You wouldn’t be getting back whatever you left if you left it around _me_.” Ethan rolled his eyes, although he smiled a bit as he listened to his co-worker. “I just wanted to let you know that you’re one of my closest friends, and I would never lie to you, and I’ve done so many favors for you over the past three months that you’ve been here. I’ve got you on Becky’s good side, I introduced you to Tyler. I befriended you.” The young man hummed in agreement in return. He could already tell where all of this was going. “The keywords of all of this is that I’ve done favors for you, you know?”

“Jack, if this is about your rent again,” Ethan sighed softly, biting his lower lip as he thought for a few seconds. “I can’t help you out with that. I was working above minimum wage when I helped you out last time. I don’t exactly make that anymore.” Sean chuckled.

“It’s not about rent,” Sean returned softly, thinking for a few seconds. Ethan was silent as he stood at the edge of the curb, waiting for the crosswalk to shift from the crimson hand to the green walking sign. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor. It’s nothing big, I promise. I wouldn’t ask anything big of you. I just knew that you asked Tyler to cover part of your shift this morning.” The Irish man paused for a few seconds, as if he was thinking of something to say. “I was wondering if you could do the same for me tomorrow. I was thinking of spending Friday night with my girlfriend…and I was hoping if I would be able to get let out of work earlier. I asked Rebecca if she could watch the children if I left early, but you know how she is. She insists she has to watch the front desk. Becky just told me I had to find someone to cover my shift. Tyler is going to be working on _Saturday_ , so I didn’t want to bother him…so I thought if I asked you, you wouldn’t mind.”

“What part of your shift do you want me to pick up?” Ethan questioned.

“All of it?” Sean squeaked hesitantly. “Four to eight?” The young man raised an eyebrow of confusion, not quite understanding. He cleared his throat, walking across the sidewalk and shoving his left hand in his pocket.

“I thought the daycare closed at seven,” the young brunette mentioned. 

“Well, it _does_ ,” Sean replied, thinking again. “Well, not really. Sort of. That’s when it closes to most of the public, only because the owner doesn’t want any of the employees working too late.” Ethan nodded in understanding, waiting for Sean to continue. “Charlotte’s father, Mr. Fischbach, has an office job that requires him to work until seven thirty. I know well enough that him and Becky are good friends, so she allows the daycare center to be kept open an extra hour. Charlotte’s the only one who’s there past seven. It’s just Becky trying to help Mr. Fischback out, I suppose, ad I don’t blame her. I believe you, Charlotte’s a good kid. Her father just works late hours, and he couldn’t even find a daycare center that was open past seven. When he found ours six months ago, he’s been using it ever since.” Ethan smiled a bit. It was nice to know that Charlotte was getting taken care of, and that Rebecca was being helpful enough. It surely wasn’t anything that the brunette had expected from her.

“You really only have to do what you always do,” Sean continued reassuringly, obviously hoping to persuade his friend. “Just read her stories and such. Be kind to her father when he shows up. He’s an awfully nice person, honest. He works long hours for her…and he’s usually just tired whenever he picks her up. I know well enough the poor man is just stressed.” Ethan nodded in understanding. He couldn’t imagine having to work so many hours a day to support a family.

“What about her mother?” The young man questioned, humming to himself as he looked both ways before crossing the street, continuing his journey home. “What time does she get out of work? Or is she a stay-at-home mom? Because, if that’s the case, surely she would be available to pick Charlotte up from daycare, correct? Or even be able to make sure she doesn’t have to go to daycare in the first place?” The brunette waited patiently for a response, hearing the Irish man clearing his throat on the other end of the line. “You’re right, you’re right, I know,” Ethan chuckled. “If she was a stay-at-home mom, she would be able to look after her daughter. It was a s stupid question. But I just had to-”

“Charlotte’s mother left the two of them a few months after she was born,” Sean explained slowly, cutting the young brunette off before he could continue. Ethan swallowed thickly in return, his face heating up a bit with embarrassment. “Charlotte’s really never met her mother or anything…Mr. Fischbach doesn’t have a girlfriend or a wife at the moment. At least, not one that Rebecca has mentioned before. Surely if he had one he would become more flexible with when he dropped Charlotte off at daycare.” The Irish man paused for a few seconds, his tone growing more serious. “You haven’t mentioned or questioned anything about her mother around her, have you?” The older man paused. “It’s not like she would be offended by anything you asked, of course, she’s a child…but if you have, I would just refrain from bringing the subject matter to light after-”

“I’ve never asked her anything about her or mentioned her vaguely in conversation,” Ethan assured his friend, although it seemed as if he was only trying to assure himself. He had a long series of questions that he was just dying to ask now, of course, the mere matter filling him with curiosity. However, Ethan knew well enough that there was a time to be curious and there was a time to keep his mouth shut…and this appeared to be one of the times that he had to keep his mouth shut. So, he simply didn’t say anything, biting his tongue. “I’ll take the shift tomorrow,” he reassured his friend gently. “A few extra hours with Charlotte wouldn’t do me any harm. She’s a wonderful girl, really.” He could hear the Irish man chuckling softly from the other side of the phone. “Oh, hush. You know well enough she’s adorable.”

“Most precious thing I’ve ever seen,” Sean agreed. He cleared his throat. “Well, you’re right, I really should be getting off my phone. Better live it up before I have to miss these rascals for tomorrow and the weekend. Not like I’ll miss getting my hair chopped up with safety scissors.” Ethan attempted to stifle his laughter, but he found himself giving in; he could hardly help himself. He could remember when it had happened too. Sean had called him as soon as the event occurred, FaceTimed him in fact, just so he could show him all the patches that were missing from his head. All followed by the sound of children giggling hysterically in the background, as if they had watched the most humorous thing during a cartoon. Ethan had to admit that he had laughed along with them, considering the almost improbable circumstances of how Sean had allowed a child to get _that close_ to his head with scissors. “I’ll text you everything you need to know about locking up tomorrow when I get home. That sound good?” Ethan hummed in return, quickly nodding his head. “See ya.”

“See ya,” Ethan replied, smiling softly as he drew the phone away from his ear, slipping it into his front pocket. He smiled softly. Although the thought of having to stay longer hours at the daycare center had once annoyed him beyond repair…he supposed that he wouldn’t mind it. After all, as Sean had mentioned, it wasn’t like he would have to care for five children. Charlotte was the only one who stayed later, and she was easy enough as it was. Dealing with that would be a breeze, he knew that well enough on his own.” Ethan smiled happily as he made it to his apartment complex, with only a few things he needed to do on his mind.

Eat a granola bar.

Unpack his bag.

Put Charlotte’s drawing on the fridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, thank you guys for the support on the first chapter of "Baby of Mine". Seeing so many familiar faces who decided to stick around from "Fifty Feet in the Air" to "Baby of Mine" is incredible. The number of avid readers...I never even expected that.
> 
> Kudos + Comments are always appreciated. The next chapter is going to be the cutest thing in the world. This fic is incredibly fluffy, whether it be between the father/daughter relationship or romantic relationship. Of course, there will be angst, but for now let's just pass the tooth-rotting sweetness that is the first few chapters.
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply!
> 
> ______
> 
> New reader? Check out [Fifty Feet in the Air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24006493/chapters/57751954)


	3. Dandelion Mornings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, here it is! This chapter was honestly so fun to write, and I hope you like the dynamic of Charlotte and Mark's father/daughter relationship! I'm absolutely obsessed with writing dialogue for Charlotte, she is the cutest original character I think I've ever written into a story, and not just these fics.

Mark groaned softly, rolling onto his side and pressing his cheek into the pillow as he felt someone gently nudging his arm repeatedly, obviously a sense of urgency. Nevertheless, the older man ignored it, supposing that it was just a feeling that hadn’t faded away from his dream, and it would soon fade away almost the moment it came. That happened to Mark surprisingly more often than one would expect. He would feel pain in a dream, and experience the tingling sensation for a matter of a few seconds when he woke up, before it eventually faded away and he couldn’t even remember _why_ he had felt pain in his dream. More often than not, however, he remembered. For a split second, he would be able to remember why his heart was aching, or why his palms were sweating, or why he could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up. And, although it was pathetic to think about…it was because of _her_. Part of Mark always felt sick he amount of times he thought about her, even if it wasn’t in an affectionate light. If anything, it was because detested her, as much as he loathed admitting it. She would always end up haunting his dreams, even if she wasn’t the main focus of them. Even the mention of her name was enough to send Mark waking up in a cold sweat. But it wasn’t something that the older man enjoyed forcing himself to think about.

Nevertheless, the soft shoving continued. The older man let out another groan of discomfort and annoyance, rolling onto his back to face away from whoever was pressing on his forearm. He was too drowsy to even think clearly. For all he knew, the blanket could just be brushing against him the wrong way. And, for a few seconds, Mark supposed that must have been it. That was, however, until the feeling moved to his back, where someone was quite obviously coaxing him into waking up. The older man rolled onto his back again, letting out a soft yawn as he stared up at the ceiling, the familiar blur of drowsiness and sleep filling his eyes as he always did when he woke up, making it almost impossible to see anything. Mark slowly propped himself up on his elbows, glancing gently over his right shoulder to see who it was. To his surprise, Charlotte was standing beside the bed, her eyes flickering curiously, almost as if she had never seen anyone sleeping before.

Mark let out a soft breath, rubbing his eyes drowsily. “What time is it?” He questioned groggily, his voice airy as it transitioned into a yawn. The older man had never considered himself a morning person. The thought of having to wake up early in the morning was enough to make him sick. Mark hated the thought of having to get out of bed, just to slave away at work. He hated the way his employees treated him, and he hated knowing that he set an _alarm_ , just so he could throw himself out of bed, force himself down the sidewalk, and reassure himself that maybe the day would be different. That, just maybe, his job wouldn’t be a living hell…possibly just for the afternoon. That was all he wanted; for his occupation to not be a torturous cycle of paperwork that piled up relentlessly on his desk, a bottomless pit of contracts and documents that need to be read over and sorted away carefully, because God forbid they store anything on their computer. Mark did every little thing without complaint, of course. He knew well enough that complaining would only get him handed a pink slip, and that was the last thing he needed…especially since the companies had merged, and he found himself hanging on desperately to his job.

“Um…” Charlotte replied hesitantly, her voice trailing off slightly as she reluctantly glanced over to the analog alarm clock that rested on her father’s nightstand. She peered closely, looking at the number. “Um, this many,” she replied slowly, turning back to her father and holding up five fingers. “Just about.” Mark counted the fingers on her hand slowly, still feeling quite drowsy after being woken up so early. He pulled himself into a sitting position, allowing the covers to drape over his waist as he looked down at his daughter, who gazed back up at him brightly. “It’s the truth,” Charlotte chirped happily, although Mark didn’t deny it.

“I’m sure it is, darling,” Mark yawned, clearing his throat. “Princess, why are you waking me up at five in the morning on a Friday? More importantly…what are _you_ doing up at five in the morning on a Friday?” The older man shifted, patting the empty space on the bed beside him. The young girl giggled softly, hoisting herself up onto the bed before crawling beside her father, leaning against him gently. “Little girls your age need sleep so they can grow up big and strong. You don’t grow up big and strong if you wake up too early and go to bed too late. Did you know that?” Charlotte paused thoughtfully before shaking her head. “Well, now you know,” he continued gently, patting her cheek. “Daddy wants you to go back to sleep now, okay? You don’t have to get out of bed for another hour.”

“You promised you would braid my hair,” Charlotte mentioned softly in return, looking up with Mark with those puppy dog eyes of hers. “You _promised_.”

“I promised, huh?” Mark questioned, blinking away the rest of the blur in his eyes as he glanced down at his daughter. He shifted so he was facing her, looking down at her seriously. “Charlotte, when daddy’s tired…he says a lot of things that he doesn’t always mean. I was very tired last night because I had to stay up doing _lots_ of work. A whole bunch, princess. So when I told you that I was going to braid your hair…I wasn’t thinking straight. My head was spinning, and I just wanted to go to sleep the _entire_ time. You know what daddy’s like when he’s tired, right?” Charlotte was silent as she slowly nodded her head, not yet saying anything. “Mhm. And, right now…I think that instead of getting me up early, you should be sleeping.”

“You’re not supposed to break promises,” Charlotte insisted. Mark leaned back on the palm of his left hand, swiping his right through his hair as he looked down at her. He let out a soft breath, reluctantly smiling. It was impossible to look at his daughter with anything apart from happiness. Mark had tried being upset with her before; it never worked. Holding an argument with his daughter was pointless, and surely attempting to start one would make no difference. “You gotta braid my hair like Ethan does it,” she mentioned softly, her voice chirping happily as she mentioned the man whose name Mark had heard repeatedly for the past three months. “He did a loose braid, you gotta do one like _that_. He said you’re ‘posed to look on the net to find it.” Mark chuckled softly. 

“Ethan said I’m supposed to look on the net?” He repeated teasingly, watching as his daughter giggled and nodded in return. Mark chuckled softly, pausing as if he was thinking about his options. He knew well enough that he wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep; once he was woken up, he couldn’t _not_ stay up. Mark knew the same about Charlotte as well, considering she was five years old, and that was just the way five-year-olds were. He chuckled softly as his daughter let out a whine, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Mark couldn’t _possibly_ say no to her. “Well, I guess if Ethan told me to,” he joked, hardly having any idea who this man was, apart from the fact that he worked at the daycare center, “then I suppose we have to.” The young girl’s eyes lit up contently, a smile slowly growing on her face as she looked up at her father. She giggled happily. “ _After_ you eat breakfast and get dressed.” Charlotte nodded in understanding, moving to climb off the bed. Mark watched her go, smiling as she giggled softly and raced out of the bedroom. He chuckled softly, shifting off of the bed. 

Mark hummed softly, straightening his nightshirt before reaching over to the alarm clock. He yawned softly, turning off the alarm. The clock read 5:07, so he supposed his daughter had been correct. Usually, the older man woke up at six o’clock, which gave him enough time to get ready, but he supposed he would let this slide just once with his daughter. Mark ran a hand through his hair, walking to the door and closing it, locking it as well. He walked over to his closet, sliding open the door and searching through his shirts. The man wanted to look presentable for work that day, more-so than he usually did. According to his co-workers, the company was going to be searching for someone to promote, along with looking for those who weren’t doing enough. Mark knew well enough that he wouldn’t be the one getting fired, considering how much he did for the company…but getting a promotion would help him insanely. The older man would be able to work fewer hours during the day, since he would be getting a raise. He would be able to spend more time with his daughter; get home earlier…she wouldn’t have to spend as much time at a daycare. Mark hummed softly, pulling out a shirt.

The man had been searching for someone who would be able to watch his daughter at _home_ throughout the day, so Charlotte wouldn’t have to spend so much time out of the house; he was sure he would have to pay less than he would for the center after all. It did cut a lot out of his paycheck, and Mark knew that well enough. The man hummed, unbuttoning his nightshirt and replacing it with the button-down shirt he had found in the closet. Mark had been keeping in touch with a few people who had bee recommended to him to take care of Charlotte…but it was complicated. He wanted someone who his daughter liked, and he didn’t want to leave her alone with someone for the entire day if he knew she might not like them. Everything was just harder since he worked long hours, and he was sure that Charlotte was starting to understand how everything worked. The older man hummed softly, walking over to his nightstand to find a pair of pants.

After another two minutes, Mark was fully dressed for work. He hummed softly, fishing his hand through his sock drawer to find one of his ties., which he would put on when he was finished getting his daughter ready. The man reached for his phone, slipping it into his pocket once he was finished and walking over to the door. He unlocked it, leaving his room to walk over to the kitchen. The older man smiled as he noticed his daughter sitting on her knees at one of the chairs of the kitchen table, humming softly as he waited patiently for her father to finish getting ready. Mark hummed softly, his daughter still in her pajamas as she sat at the table, shifting slightly.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Mark hummed softly, entering the kitchen and smiling gently at his daughter as he leaned on the table. Charlotte glanced at him, smiling softly as she shifted in her seat, kicking her legs underneath the table gently. She pursed her lips together, thinking about her options. “The faster you decide, princess,” Mark teased,“the more time I have to do your hair.” The young girl’s eyes lit up happily.

“Loops,” she chirped happily, finally making up her mind. The older man smiled softly.

“Cheerios it is,” Mark repeated back to her, watching as she nodded her head happily. The older man hummed softly as he walked over to the fridge, his heart warming as it always did from the sight of her drawings. He didn’t need to marvel at them for minutes for them to make him feel incredibly content. Mark had added a new one to the fridge just yesterday; although his hair had been displayed in a green shade due to the lack of brown crayons, he had appreciated it just the same, and it went on the fridge. Taped up beside the others. They were all a series of vibrant colors and scribbles, which would come together to form a vague depiction of whatever her intentions were of drawing. Rainbows that stretched across the page, blue skies, and green grass, with a sun that was _always_ depicted in the corner, which _always_ seemed to be wearing sunglasses. The pictures also always seemed to come with a variety of stick figures, most of the depictions of herself wearing a triangle dress, two waved lines of hair coming from her head. Mark always found himself glancing just quickly at the pictures every morning, being able to depict when his daughter had drawn them, and what they were of, and always how _excited_ she had been to show Mark. That was the wonderful thing about children. They were always excited to show off even the littlest things to their parents. 

Mark, of course, would always joke with his daughter that his pictures would be the death of him, since he would eventually have to ‘buy a second fridge’. Charlotte had always giggled at the thought, of course, claiming it was ridiculous. Every other day, it seemed, the young girl would bring home a drawing, marking her name in pink on the bottom of the page, that Mark always found hilarious. But it was more than just a drawing to him. Nevertheless, he opened the fridge, humming softly as he reached for the milk carton. They were almost out, but that was no matter. He went shopping on Saturday, so he would just buy more the following day. Mark rested the carton on the counter, closing the fridge as he shifted to the right, opening the cabinet. “Regular or cinnamon?” He questioned, glancing over his left shoulder and back at his daughter. The young girl thought for a few seconds.

“Cinnamon,” she decided. Mark nodded, turning back around and reaching for the box of Cinnamon Cheerios; almost empty, along with hardly everything he had in the house. “Daddy?” Charlotte continued softly, kicking her legs underneath the chair.

“Yes?” Mark hummed, searching through another cabinet and finding an empty bowl.

“Can you pack me two fruit cups?” Charlotte questioned thoughtfully. The older man cocked an eyebrow slightly as he began to pour cinnamon cheerios into her bowl, not quite understanding why she wanted to. “Ethan doesn’t bring a lunch,” she explained softly, the older man’s heart melting as he listened to his daughter speak. “I think he forgets. He can have one of the fruit cups.” 

“That’s very thoughtful,” Mark retorted softly, a visible smile on his face as he poured milk into the bowl, pulling himself away from the counter and grabbing a spoon from the drawer. “I’ll make sure to pack you an extra fruit cup for Ethan.” Charlotte smiled happily, sitting on her knees again as her father rested the bowl of cereal in front of her, the spoon adjacent. He hummed softly, walking back over to the counter and ducking down, reaching over to the cupboard door and opening it, finding the young girl’s lunchbox. Mark rested the lunchbox up on the counter, his mind wandering over to Ethan, since his daughter had mentioned him. The only times Charlotte had ever mentioned him was in a kind light, talking about how Ethan had drawn with her, or the times he read picture books with her. The older man didn’t know what the daycare employee in question looked like, though. The only employee who was ever there when he picked up his daughter was a man named Sean. Nevertheless, Charlotte had relentlessly messaged Ethan throughout the past three months of her stay at daycare, so Mark was lead to believe that the man had only recently started working there.

“How old would you say Ethan is?” Mark questioned, opening the fridge and reaching for a pair of fruit cups.

“I dunno,” Charlotte replied, continuing to eat her breakfast.

“Older than me?” Mark asked curiously, glancing back over his left shoulder. 

“Nu-uh,” the young girl returned, shaking her head as she took another bite of cheerios. Mark simply gave a hum, unzipping her lunchbox and placing the two fruit cups inside. “He doesn’t got a beard.” Mark chuckled softly, rolling his eyes playfully as he opened the fridge again, reaching for an apple. “Shorter.” The older man hummed in understanding, finding a plastic bag. He continued packing his daughter’s lunch, whistling under his breath. 

“Well,” Mark hummed softly, finally zipping up his daughter’s lunchbox once he was finished packing it. He rested it gently on the kitchen table. “You can tell Ethan that you brought him a fruit cup after you tell him how well I did your hair, and how I did it even _better_.” His daughter giggled softly, finishing her cereal. The older man carefully took the bowl from his daughter and resting it in the sink. He would clean it later when he got back from work. “Now,” he said gently. “Can I trust you to pick out your own outfit without the colors clashing, or should I do it myself?” Charlotte smiled a bit.

“I can do it,” she insisted proudly. 

“Are you sure?” Mark questioned softly. The young girl pursed her lips for a second, holding her hands behind her back for a few seconds as she paused thoughtfully. “I’ll take that as a no,” the older man chuckled, patting her daughter’s head gently. The girl finally nodded her head, agreeing with her father. “Let’s pick something out together,” he decided. Charlotte smiled, nodding happily as she toddled off to her room. The man chuckled softly, rolling his eyes playfully as he walked after her. Mark hummed, entering the young girl’s room after her, watching how she sat on her bed and looked at her closet. “ _Or_ , I can pick it out,” he teased. Charlotte giggled.

“What color as we wearing today?” Mark asked, walking over to the closet,

“Purple,” the young girl decided. 

Mark glanced back over his shoulder, chuckling softly. “Princess, you wore purple yesterday, and the day before. I’m not even sure that you have anything purple left in your closet.” Charlotte smiled shyly, giving an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders. “How about we try another color today. How about pink?” The young girl pursed her lips before shaking her head. “You’ve got a pretty yellow dress,” Mark mentioned thoughtfully, reaching for the dandelion shaded dress, with butterscotch and medallion swirls up the side. The sleeves were lined with a canary shade, along with the hem of the skirt and the collar. “How about this one?” He offered, showing his daughter. Charlotte’s eyes lit up happily before she nodded her head, shifting to the edge of her bed eagerly. “Alright, yellow it is,” he decided. He moved over to the bed, resting the dress beside her. “I’ll be waiting outside,” Mark continued. “Tag goes in the back, remember?”

“Uh-huh,” Charotte gigged.

“Okay,” Mark hummed. He pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, smiling when his daughter squealed happily. The older man gently tucked a lock of her ebony hair behind her ear, chuckling softly before he pulled away from the bed. Mark carefully left his daughter’s room, standing in the hallway ad closing the door behind him once he left. The older man couldn’t help but smile as he crossed his arms loosely against his chest, waiting for his daughter to finish. “Why don’t you wear that pretty charm bracelet of yours, too,” Mark called into the room, making a suggestion.

“Okay!” Charlotte shouted back. Mark smiled softly as he waited, his eyes wandering down the small hallway as he waited for her to finish up. His gaze fixed on a few of the pictures that sat framed on the wall, ones that he hadn’t really looked at in a while. It wasn’t that he ignored them, or anything. Mark just didn’t always find himself in the position where he was regularly looking at them for long periods of time. He gave a watery smile as his eyes fixed on one of the pictures of him and his daughter. The older man was seen holding his daughter, who was young at the time, on his shoulders, smiling at the camera. Charlotte was wearing a floral bucket hat, one that matched her coral and peach pink swim shirt. Her hands were loosely gripping her father’s hair, as most children did, and she was smiling happily, looking off somewhere in the distance. Mark had been wearing a teal swim shirt, his hair soaked and water dripping down the side of his face. His girlfriend, Kaitlyn, Charlotte’s mother, had taken the photo at the time. His daughter had only been one at the time, but Mark still remembered that day. They had been at the beach, Mark knew that well enough.

The older man turned his attention to another photograph on the wall, smiling softly. It was a simple photo, and it had been taking when they were visiting his girlfriend’s parents for Christmas. Mark was crouched down beside a Christmas tree, Charlotte resting on his lap. She couldn’t have been much older than she was in the first photo, and she was wearing a sleeveless scarlet dress atop a porcelain white undershirt that’s stretched to her wrists. His daughter had been fascinated by the ornaments in the photo, gazing at her warped reflection, her eyes seemingly catching her in a trance. Mark was smiling down at her gently, a loving gaze in his eye.

Mark’s attention was taken away from the photo as he glanced at the door to his daughter’s bedroom, smiling when she opened it. Charlotte giggled happily, wearing the dandelion dress that her father picked out for her, managing to remember that the tag went in the back, as always. “There’s my princess,” Mark said with a smile. The young girl giggled happily, swaying slightly with her dress, the hem swaying with her. The older man chuckled softly. “Alright, do you still want me to do your hair?” He teased, pretending to glance at a watch on his wrist that wasn’t even there. “I don’t know, Char, it’s getting _pretty late_. Maybe we should get going. Maybe Ethan can braid your hair for you.”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte giggled, toddling over to her father and tugging in his wrist gently. He smiled down at her simply. “You _promised_. You’re not ‘posed to break ‘em.” The older man cocked an eyebrow.

“Is that so?” He questioned.

“Uh-huh,” his daughter replied. 

“Well, in that case,” Mark continued softly, gesturing his head over to the bathroom. “Why don’t you find a hair elastic, I’ll get my phone out, and I’ll figure out how to braid your hair for you.” The younger girl smiled happily, nodding her head eagerly in return. His daughter toddled to the bathroom with excitement, standing on her toes and reaching for the small container of elastics that was kept on the sink counter. After a few seconds of realizing she couldn't reach it, she stood carefully on the stool that was placed in front of the sink. Mark smiled softly as he watched her, uncrossing his arms from loosely against his chest before he followed after her. He leaned in the doorway of the bathroom, watching as the young girl proudly retrieved the elastic band she needed. 

“Got it!” Charlotte chirped proudly.

“That you did,” Mark replied gently. The younger girl turned on her heels, facing the mirror above the bathroom sink. Her dark hair rested gently below her shoulders, so she quickly flipped it behind them, letting it rest on her back. Mark hummed, walking carefully behind her. His daughter carefully handed him the elastic band, which he rested down on the bathroom counter. The older man fished his hand through his pocket, finding his phone and pulling it out. “Alright, let’s figure this thing out,” he said aloud, humming underneath his breath. “How…to…braid,” he continued, speaking as he typed the text into the search bar of his phone. Charlotte giggled softly, shifting as she waited for her father to hurry up. “Okay, this might take a couple of tries,” he mentioned. “I’ve never done this before.”

“It’s easy,” Charlotte insisted. “Ethan said so.”

“Ethan said so, huh?” Mark chuckled, resting his phone down on the counter and reaching for the elastic. His daughter gave a soft ‘uh-huh’ in return. “Well, whoever this kid is, I can assure you that I’m going to be better at this whole braiding thing.” The older man held the elastic between his teeth, biting down on it as he separated her hair into three sections, glancing over her shoulder at his phone. The older man hummed softly, carefully draping one section over the other, realizing that braiding was just a repeated pattern. “This shit’s easy,” he scoffed. Charlotte giggled. “Don’t repeat that.”

The older man hummed softly as he continued the braiding pattern, glancing up at the mirror ad noticing the way Charlotte smiled proudly. Mark couldn’t help but grin with her. “You better tell Ethan that I think I’ve got him beat when it comes to this braiding thing,” he mentioned softly, listening ass his daughter giggled softly in return. Mark smiled softly, making sure not to tug on her hair too roughly, since she wanted a loose braid; the older man wasn’t really content with the idea of doing a tighter braid, since he didn’t want to pull too roughly and accidentally hurt her. It wasn’t something that regularly happened, of course; even if she just fell over on her own, Mark always managed to find a way to feel guilty about it. The older man pressed a gentle kiss on the top of her head, taking the elastic out of his teeth and shifting slightly. “Alright, here’s the moment of truth,” he continued teasingly. Charlotte lifted her shoulders happily, a wide smile spreading across her face. Mark bit his lower lip gently, carefully slipping the elastic on and twisting it to keep the loose braid in place. After a few seconds, he stepped away from his daughter, grinning.

“Wow…” Charlotte breathed out softly, gently brushing the braid over her shoulder and smiling. The onyx elastic blended in almost perfectly with her hair, which only made the braid look better. “It’s _pretty_.” Mark smiled, crouching down carefully so that he was on his daughter’s level. He rested a gentle, comforting hand on his daughter’s shoulder, looking at both of them in the mirror. 

“Do you like it?” He asked softly, glancing at Charlotte lovingly. The young girl giggled, nodding her head eagerly as she gently brushed her fingertips down the braid. “I’m glad,” he continued. Mark pressed a gentle kiss against her cheek, patting her shoulder gently before he stood up, straightening his jacket. “Alright, darling. Why don’t you put your shoes on and grab your lunchbox, hm? We can stop by the park on our way to daycare.” Charlotte grinned happily, nodding her head eagerly. She glanced away from the mirror, turning around and leaning up. Mark chuckled softly, accepting his daughter’s hug and squeezing her gently in return. The young girl squealed happily, smiling before she pulled away. She hopped off from the stool, rushing out of the bathroom to the kitchen, where she could find her shoes by the door. Mark smiled softly, reaching for his phone. “Thank you, Ethan, for the suggestion,” he said to himself, smiling softly as he tucked his device into his back pocket. The older man hummed softly, pulling away from the bathroom countertop.

Mark left the bathroom, turning off the lights as he left. He glanced at the kitchen, smiling softly as he watched his daughter stand on her toes, reaching for her lunchbox. The older man walked over to her, carefully hooking his arms around her and lifting her up so she could grab it. Charlotte giggled happily, grabbing her lunchbox before her father rested her down on the floor. “I’m gonna wait outside in the hallway,” her father continued softly, patting her head. “Why don’t you put on your pretty white shoes, okay? The elephant goes on the left, remember?” The young girl giggled, nodding. Mark had placed stickers on the interior of his daughter’s shoes, so she would know which one went on which foot. He gently kissed the top of her head, being careful not to mess up her braid before he slipped on his shoes. Mark gave a content sigh, reaching for his briefcase which was sitting on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He made sure to pack everything the night before, when it came to his work supplies, so he wouldn’t be rushing around the house looking for everything when he should be getting ready. 

The man sighed contently, gathering his things before he walked to his apartment door, smiling back at his daughter before leaving into the hallway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your support in the first two chapters. I definitely wasn't expecting so many people to appreciate it so early on, considering it took a little bit for people to start noticing "Fifty Feet in the Air", but I'm glad "Baby of Mine" is doing well.  
> Kudos + Comments always appreciated.
> 
> Thank you guys, again,  
> Simply!


	4. Sweet, Like Peaches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter. Phew! Time for me to go to bed.  
> Also, ahhh, thank you for 20 user subscriptions!!

Ethan leaned back on the palm of his hands, smiling softly as he watched the young girl with mild interest. Charlotte was standing by the bookshelf, her eyes scanning over the assortment of picture books that were on display, each one he was sure she had read dozens of times. After all, she had been attending the daycare every day for almost six months. The young brunette would believe her if she claimed she had memorized each one by heart, even what the pictures looked like, and even if they were down to the littlest detail. Ethan was sure she had hugged every stuffed animal insight, drawn almost everything a child could ever imagine drawing, dressed up every doll with almost infinite combinations…the list went on forever. They had limited things in the daycare, and the young man knew well enough that none of the toys had been replaced for a while. Surely not at least a year. He couldn’t imagine himself being forced to stay at a certain place with nothing to do but the same thing he had done every other day; Ethan supposed that was what work was like, in a nutshell, but at least he got paid to do it. It wasn’t like he just so happened to be dropped off there and was _expected_ to do this every day. Not like Charlotte, of course. A large majority of the young brunette pitied her, especially considering how many hours she stayed there.

Now, however, it was only the two of them. The young girl was wearing a yellow sundress, one that she claimed her father had picked out for her, which Ethan didn’t doubt. In fact, he found it adorable how Charlotte’s father made a point of interacting with her as much as he could throughout the day, considering he worked long hours. All the young girl ever seemed to do was talk about him, of course. Ethan would find himself listened to her ramble on about the most random things, and her father always seemed to be involved. Always something along the lines of how he was the best pancake-maker in the world, or that he was so strong he could lift her with only one arm, and even how he has the biggest tie collection she had ever seen. The young girl had mentioned that her father was the best at braiding, although she quickly continued by reassuring Ethan he was a close second. The young brunette had returned with an exaggerated expression of pain, only smiling when Charlotte simply giggled.

According to the young girl, her father was the best at almost everything. Packing lunches, giving hugs, building pillow forts…making promises, telling stories, putting her artwork up on the fridge…he was the best at being nice, the best at keeping secrets, and the best at giving silly voices to each of the characters in a picture book. He was the best at making hot chocolate, and the best at singing goodnight lullabies, and the best at making jokes. And, the icing on the cake, Charlotte’s father was supposedly the best at counting in hide and seek, playing Monopoly, as well as being the best chef in the entire world. She had smiled so confidently when she stated everything, of course, her eyes light up as she described each one to the young brunette, as if it had the utmost impotence. Ethan would never tell her otherwise, of course, since he knew well enough that talked about her father meant everything to her. The young man had even discovered ways to slip it into the conversation, whether it be asking who did her hair or who picked out her outfit, two questions he already knew the answer to. Charlotte didn’t know that, though, and she would contently explain that her father had done it for her, and that he was the best at picking outfits out for her. The young man had made a note to add it to this list. 

One of the first things the young girl had mentioned, of course, when she walked into the daycare center was how her father was the best at braiding hair. Charlotte had proudly announced how her father had taken Ethan’s advice, using ‘the net’ to figure out how he was supposed to braid. According to the young girl, her father had gotten it on the first try, and she then continued to say he swore a little bit, except she was supposed to tell Ethan that, but Charlotte continued by saying she knew the young man could keep a secret. The young brunette had chuckled simply, agreeing with the ebony-haired girl that her secret was safe with him. Kids mentioned the darnedest things. If you wanted something secretive to be kept, you knew well enough not to inform a child. They would shamelessly announce to everyone they knew what you had said, or what you had done, or what you _wanted_ to do…even if the statement had nothing to do with the conversation at hand. That didn’t matter to then. They just got all giddy saying something they knew was ‘supposed’ to be kept a secret. Nevertheless, Ethan had simply patted her shoulder, reminding her that ‘even dads say swear words’, which was something the young girl found surprising. 

Ethan had, as usual, and not unexpected of him, spent most of his time at work with Charlotte. She happened to be one of the only children at the daycare center who he could tolerate; one of the only little girls who didn’t cause him to want to tear his hair out. Sure, he knew that little kids were supposed to be annoying and all, but _holy shit_. He never understood how two girls could get into a feud over which Barbie was prettier when the dolls both had the same stupid face, matched with the same platinum blonde hair and the exact same outfit, except one happened to be a different shade of pink. The young brunette could also hardly wrap his head around the fact that the girls at the daycare center would always manage to act out an entire sitcom while they were playing house, an entire backstory, and everything, even if the backstory itself was never mentioned during their roleplaying session. Each character would have a complicated background, which the other young girls plotted out together, making sure each character had a fair share of a story…except for whoever was unlucky enough to have to be the dog. There wasn’t much they could do except crawl around on their hands and knees, saying ‘woof’ occasionally, before ultimately deciding to see if the boys were doing anything exciting.

Ethan found that the daycare room was more peaceful when it was only him and Charlotte. This was nothing he had ever experienced before, of course, considering his shift was in the afternoon. If anything, he was the one who ended up dealing with the most kids at the same time; it was sometimes as difficult as it sounded, of course. Having to calmly remind children not to hit each other, having to remind them to share things and to give each other space, picking up after the messes the children simply didn’t want to clean up by themselves…cleaning up accidents of both juice _and_ urine. Having to do first-aid on the spot was something he was getting used to, considering he always found himself tensing up in serious situations, but surprisingly the only damage the children managed to do to themselves was give themselves paper cuts, which was easily manageable with a simple band-aid.Nevertheless, he gave a content sigh, leaning gently against the bookcase as he waited for the young girl to make up her mind on what she wanted to read. Charlotte was awfully particular on which book Ethan was supposed to read to her, so he made sure not to interrupt her process.

“Um…” Charlotte hummed softly, her voice trailing off as she hesitantly reached over to the shelf. Her fingers wrapped carefully around the spine of a picture book, pulling it free from the shelf and showing the cover to Ethan. “This one,” she decided finally, extending the book to Ethan. The young brunette accepted the picture book, chuckling softly as he looked down at it. _Corduroy_. The exact book that the young girl had requested him to read _twice_ already during that very same day, insisting that a story could never be read too many times. Although Ethan agreed with her to some degree, surely there was a better option in the shelf that she _hadn’t_ read. Possibly even one that her gaze had missed for the last six months; one that she was missing out on. Nevertheless, Charlotte stood in front of him, lowering herself so she was sitting on the carpet, a look of eagerness in her eyes as she waited for the young brunette to open the picture book like he always did, and to start reading on the first page.

“Charlotte,” Ethan mentioned gently, looking down at the book as he attempted to stifle his laughter. However, after a few seconds, the young man finally gave in. “Charlotte, we’ve already read this one twice today,” he mentioned gesturing his head back to the bookshelf. “There’s plenty of other books in there, Char. I can assure you, _Corduroy_ is not the only interesting picture book here. What about _The Giving Tree_? _Harold and the Purple Crayon?_ How about _Don’t Let The Pigeon Drive The Bus_?” He gestured his hand over to the series of books that lined the bottom row of the bookshelf, the three of which he had mentioned being stacked neatly beside each other. However, Charlotte simply shook her head, pointing to the book again to symbolize she wanted to read _Corduroy_. “You sure?” Ethan questioned a final time, cocking an eyebrow slightly. “I would be bored with _Corduroy_ if I were you.”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte insisted happily, resting her hands in her lap before she scooted closer to the young brunette. She rested the side of her head gently against the young man’s shoulder, causing Ethan to smile softly in return. “This one.” Ethan simply chuckled in return, giving a playful roll of his eye before he wrapped his left arm around the young girl, feeling her press against his side as she looked down at the cover. “Yay…” she whispered softly, her voice airy as she waited for Ethan to open the book.

“Does Jack read you the same book three times?” Ethan questioned teasingly.

Charlotte giggled, giving a dramatic shake of her head.

“That’s why I’m your favorite, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte chirped in return. Ethan couldn’t help but smile softly as he held the young girl at his side, the hardcover picture book resting gently in his lap. The young man had to admit, _Corduroy_ seemed to be one of the more… _sophisticated_ children’s books, if that made any sense. Ethan could remember reading the book himself when he was younger; it was awfully old, if that meant anything. However, the cover had changed from what he remembered. It was now the depiction of a peanut shaded bear in crocodile green overalls, although there was the familiar blush background that he remembered so dearly. Ethan cleared his throat dramatically, as if he was going to begin the presentation of the most crucial monologue in a production. Charlotte giggled softly, watching as the young man carefully opened the cover of the book, as he had done twice already. At that rate, Ethan was better off just memorizing the book my heart, so he wouldn’t even have to bother opening the familiar first page. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat again, this time seriously before he smiled.

“Corduroy is a bear who once lived in the toy department of a big store,” Ethan read carefully, Charlotte pressing closer to him as she looked down at the picture of a stuffed teddy bear on a shelf. “Day after day, he waited with all the other animals and dolls for someone to come along and take him home. The store was always filled with shoppers buying all sorts of things, but no one ever seemed to want a small bear in green overalls.” The young man smiled softly, allowing the young girl to look at the illustrations before he gently turned the page, clearing his throat again before picking up where he left off. Charlotte simply grinned happily, pointing out the small details in the pictures that she hadn’t noticed the first time around. “Well, aren’t you a book connoisseur,” the young man joked, Charlotte smiling proudly, although they both knew well enough that she had no idea what the word meant. Ethan wouldn’t correct her, though. He enjoyed being able to watch the young girl smile, even though if it was over nothing at all. That was the wonderful thing about children. They could find themselves smiling just for the fun of it, something that wasn’t as commonly found in adults.

“Then, one morning, a little girl stopped and looked straight into Corduroys’ bright eyes,” he continued softly, feeling Charlotte shift slightly into his lap as he read to her. “‘Oh Mommy!’ she said. ‘Look! There’s the very bear I always wanted.’” The young man pointed gently to the illustration, about to pick up where he left off once again, but the young girl was quick to cut his attention away from the picture book as she quickly shifted off of his lap, standing up. “Everything alright, Char?” Ethan asked gently, hesitantly resting the book aside as he watched the younger girl straightening her dandelion dress. “Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte giggled. “I forgot to give you something.” The younger man cocked an eyebrow slightly before he smiled. “It’s in my cubby. I was gonna give it to you at lunchtime, but I forgot. Can I go get it?” Ethan couldn’t help but smile sweetly, nodding his head gently as he gestured his hand to the cubbies, symbolizing that it was alright for her to retrieve whatever gift she had originally had in mind. The young man could only assume that it was a drawing she had made for him at home, possibly something with dark hair, since there wouldn’t be an oversupply of green crayons instead of brown. All the young brunette was expected was a paper colored over with vibrant shades in the background, a sun in the corner like she always drew it. Her name would be signed in bright pink on the bottom, as she always did; the mark of a true artist, Ethan would always tease. It was cute. People signed their drawings or their masterpieces when they were proud of them…it made the young brunette happy that the younger girl liked to draw, even when her crayon colors were so limited. However, Ethan could only raise his eyebrow again when he watched the young girl start walking back over from the cubbies, not holding a drawing in her hand as he had originally expected. Not even a sheet of paper with anything on it, no. A fruit cup. 

Charlotte held a fruit cup of assorted fruit in her right hand, an alabaster white plastic spoon dangling loosely from her left. The young man didn’t quite understand what it was for as she offered both items to him. “You always forget to pack a lunch,” she chirped thoughtfully, looking down at the fruit, “so I asked my daddy if he could pack two. One for me and one for you.” Charlotte paused, biting her lower lip. “We were _‘posed_ to eat them together, but I forgot.”

“That’s alright,” Ethan chuckled softly, although he swallowed thickly, looking down at the food. He didn’t really _have_ any intentions of eating…usually he just ate something small when he got home; something later, before he went to bed. If he ate at all, of course. This was usually one of the days where he just sort of… _skipped_. At least until morning. “I’m really not hungry though,” he lied softly, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. “I had a really big breakfast this morning…” The young girl looked back at him, her shoulders slumping down slightly as she looked down at the fruit cup. Ethan bit his lip awkwardly, shifting slightly closer to the younger girl. He gave a reluctant sigh, hesitantly extending his hand. “I guess some fruit wouldn’t do me any harm,” Ethan mentioned softly, a half-smile on his face as the younger girl squealed happily. The young man carefully accepted the fruit cup from her, chuckling softly from her reaction as he leaned back against the bookshelf.

“You’re awfully excited just to get to see me eat a fruit cup,” Ethan joked gently, although he smiled. “Thank you,” he continued softly, a sincere look in his eye that he was sure the young girl wouldn’t even be able to comprehend, or even understand _herself_ why he was thanking her…but he meant it with all of his heart. After a content sigh, the young man carefully pulled back the top, just slightly, before taking a sip of the fruit juice. He had noticed a few of the other kids doing that whenever they brought one, in order to not let juice explode everywhere if they ripped it open too fast. Charlotte reached gently for the _Corduroy_ picture book, opening it gently to the page where they had left off. Ethan chuckled softly as he completely pulled back the top. “I can’t exactly read to you when I’m eating,” he mentioned thoughtfully. Charlotte smiled.

“I know,” she replied. “Saving your spot.” Ethan nodded in understanding, hesitantly taking a spoonful of fruit. The young girl returned to a sitting position, leaning on his shoulder gently as he had before. Ethan downed the spoonful, humming contently afterward. He had to admit, it was pretty good.

“The cherries are the best part,” Charlotte mentioned gently. “That’s why you’re ‘posed to eat ‘em last. It’s bad luck if you don’t.” Ethan stifled his laughter, simply giving a nod as if it was the best advice he had ever received. Nevertheless, he listened to the younger girl, picking around them carefully as he ate the sliced pear and pineapple instead, chewing thoughtfully as he sat beside Charlotte. “I don’t like the pineapple,” she continued softly. “Burns my tongue.”

“Hm, I guess it’s a little acidic,” Ethan mentioned, chuckling softly as he continued eating. “I don’t like the peach…the texture’s just gross. _Hairy_.” Charlotte giggled hysterically, her dark almond eyes lighting up happily as she looked up at Ethan. “Do you find my suffering funny?” He joked, only causing the Charlotte to giggle more as she leaned on him. The young brunette gave a warm smile as he finished the rest of his fruit cup, apart from the cherries, which he left there of course. He ate them last for good measure, giving a proud grin when he was finished. “Like that?” Ethan questioned softly, standing to his feet as he went to throw the plastic cup away. Charlotte nodded quickly as she sat on the rug, pointing back to the picture book that the young brunette was expected to continue reading. “Of course,” he mentioned. “How could I forget?” Charlotte gave a dramatic shrug of her shoulders as Ethan sat back down beside her, reaching for the picture book.

“Nestor!” Ethan heard Rebecca shouting from the front desk. The young man glanced up from the picture book he was holding, surprised he had been able to hear the older woman through the door. Must have been important. Nevertheless, he stayed put, although he gently closed the picture book and returned it to the shelf. Charlotte glanced up at him curiously, folding her hands carefully in her lap. “Charlotte’s father is here!” Ethan smiled a bit. At least he would finally be able to meet the man that the young girl talked so fondly of, and so frequently. And, as if a firework had just been shot off inside her, Charlotte sprung to her feet with excitement, her eyes lighting up happily.

“Daddy!” She squealed, not even pausing another second before she toddled as fast as she could to the door, reaching up and practically forcing it open. Ethan couldn’t exactly blame her of course, and he simply chuckled softly as he folded his arms loosely across his chest, following after her carefully. The young girl had gone most of the day without seeing her father, and she would finally be able to get to spend the weekend with him, since the young man knew well enough that was what she looked forward to the most. The young girl would talk relentlessly about how excited she was for the weekend, where she got to build pillow forts with her father, or go to the park. He would watch her from the park benches, or he would help push her on the swing because she hadn’t quite figured out how to do it herself. Charlotte spoke so fondly of how her father would set up a ‘picnic’ on the floor of his bedroom, where they would sit and eat lunch together on the floor atop a blanket he had found in his closet. Ethan’s heart warmed just at the thought of it. Even just by a few simple anecdotes about him, the young man knew well enough that Charlotte’s father must have been an _amazing_ person.

Ethan hesitantly peeked his head through the door, his eyes softening and his heart skipping a beat. Charlotte practically threw herself into her father’s arms, Mr. Fischbach picking her up happily and twirling her around. The older man chuckled softly before he found himself resting the younger girl on his hip, her arms hooking loosely around his shoulders as she pressed herself close to him. “I told you that pretty braid of yours would stay in,” the man teased softly, his daughter giggling in return. The young brunette leaned gently against the doorframe, not knowing if it was exactly his place to say anything. Although introducing himself seemed like a good idea, he didn’t exactly want to waste away what was going on. “Thanks again for watching, her, Sean, I know I-” Mr. Fischbach glanced at him, his eyes widening slightly with surprise. Rebecca was already packing up her thing, since she knew Ethan would be there to pack up. “Oh, sorry,” the man apologized quickly, chuckling awkwardly as he shifted his left hand through his hair. “I assumed someone else would be here. I’m Mark.” The man extended his hand thoughtfully. Rebecca slid on her coat before leaving. Ethan glanced down, noticing how the older man extended his _left_ hand, since he was holding Charlotte with his right. Well, the young girl hadn’t exactly been lying when she claimed her father could hold her with only one arm.

“Ethan,” Ethan introduced in return, making sure to reach out his own left hand as he shook Mark’s. The older man’s eyes flickered slightly upon the mentioning of his name.

“So _you’re_ the man that my daughter has been mentioning nonstop for the past three months,” Mark announced, smiling a bit as he looked at Ethan. Charlotte giggled shyly, sheepishly hiding her face in her father’s shoulder. The older man simply chuckled pressing a gentle kiss atop her hair before redirecting his attention to Ethan again. “Believe me when I tell you that she hardly talks about anything else around the house. All she mentions is the things that ‘Ethan does’ during daycare, and how I’m supposed to ‘go on the net’ because you told me to.” Ethan chuckled softly, letting go of his hand before shoving them both back into his pockets. “You’re _quite_ the celebrity.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” Ethan mentioned in return, gesturing his head back into the daycare room where they had both come from, “you’ve got to be just about the only thing Charlotte mentions in there. She can’t stop talking about you, even when she’s drawing or eating lunch. From what I’ve heard, you’re _pretty amazing_ at building pillow forts.” Mark grinned, giving a simple ‘guilty-as-charged’ nod of his head. The young man smiled. Quickly studying the older man in a simple glance. It was weird…Mark was older than him, yes, but the young man had expected him to be _older_ than he looked. Not grey hair, or anything…just older. Nevertheless, the young brunette didn’t dare mention that to her father, considering that it didn’t seem to be the most appropriate thing that he could say. “Well, I hope you two enjoy your weekend,” the young man continued, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“You too,” Mark advised. “Maybe I’ll see you around? Are you taking the later shift?”

“Oh, no,” Ethan admitted, humming softly. “Just covering Sean’s shift.”

“ _That_ explains a lot,” the older man mentioned in return, shifting slightly as he glanced from Charlotte to Ethan. “You’re right, we’d probably better get going. I know well enough that Charlotte isn’t going to eat to walk home, so I might as well get carrying her over with,” Ethan chuckled softly, nodding his head in understanding. “Say goodbye, Charlotte.”

The young girl giggled as she gave a small wave. Mark’s gaze lingered for a few seconds before he turned on his heels, pressing a gentle kiss on his daughter’s cheek before leaving the daycare center. Ethan had only one thing on his mind.

Switching shifts with Sean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all of your love and relentless support on "Baby of Mine" so far. I'm currently taking suggestions for subplots you'd like to see, and so far I've added one to the list of things I *totally* want to be included in the story. I'm absolutely loving Charlotte, as always, and I hope you are too. Her character is by far my favorite original character.
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated.
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply


	5. Learning Is Trying Again...Love Is Letting Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two POVs! Each of these points of view is bittersweet, so I hope you appreciate them.
> 
> I fucking love this chapter so much personally, especially Mark's P.O.V.  
> Like, damn, I hate saying this because it seems like I'm being a cocky bitch...but I am so proud of this chapter.

Ethan yawned softly as he sat at his kitchen table, holding his head in his hands before letting out a soft groan, his elbows propped up on the table. The young man could feel his temples throbbing against his wrists,the palms of his hands clutching his forehead tightly, as if that could make the pain go away. It wasn’t anything excruciating, like he had taken a knife to the head or something. Just a consistent… _steady_ throbbing pain, aching through his skull and underneath his skin. It was like the mild pain you felt when you pressed down on a fresh bruise…that familiar sense of pressure that anyone would hate well enough. That was what it felt like; it was as if there was a bruise on the interior of his skull, maybe even against his brain for all he cared, and some jackass was just poking at it; _repeatedly_. Over and over. The young man had tried taking Advil, but it just didn’t help him as much as he wanted. All he could do now was loosely hang his head in his hands, watching the table seemingly shift and spin underneath him, the young brunette blinking heavily every few seconds to steady his gaze more so than it already was. He was dizzy as hell, but he knew well enough what was the cause of the pain.

_He_ was the cause. Ethan. The young brunette knew that already. He knew that he was the reason his head was aching, and the reason that the room was spinning. The young man reluctantly sat back in his chair, slumped down slightly as he looked up at the ceiling. The light was spinning. Ethan screwed his eyes shut, applying pressure with his wrists and rubbing at them roughly. He knew that doing so wasn’t going to make a difference, but he would do whatever he could to get rid of it; he knew another way to get it to stop, but he wasn’t so keen on going down that route. The young brunette opened his eyes again, letting out another groan of frustration. Christ _almighty_ , it was enough for the man to throw his forehead down against the table. The dizziness…the sickening churning in his stomach and the growl it provided, not to mention how fucking tired he felt, even though it was even nine o’clock. Nevertheless, he sat alone at the table, a familiar chill washing over him, shaking through his bones and down his spine. The apartment was hardly even that cold, but Ethan knew that wasn’t even the problem anyway.

Ethan wasn’t eating. He didn’t feel like eating. The only thing the young man had throughout the entire day was a mixed fruit cup that Charlotte had given him, which he was starting to feel grateful for, despite himself. As if the stomach pain wasn’t enough to remind himself, of course, a churning feeling that ripped through his gut, and wouldn’t go away no matter which way he held himself or how he lay on the couch or his bed; something that could make him wince through his teeth as he clawed at his sides occasionally, when he had wrapped his arms around himself. Ethan could feel the heat and the rhythm of his pulse in his ear, like one could when they slept on their side the wrong way. He supposed it must have been some sort of punishment or something. He supposed that he deserved it, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around it; wrap his head around _why_ he couldn’t stop. The young brunette was just sitting there at the kitchen table, taking absolutely everything that was being thrown at him, as if it was just some test that would eventually end if he just sat through it long enough. It was _pathetic_ , he knew that well enough, but he could hardly help it.

It was a mental thing…wanting to be good enough for people, he supposed. Wanting to _look_ good enough for people to accept him. Ethan knew well enough that no one really cared…but he cared. _He_ cared. And that was what mattered to him. Ethan’s own perception of himself was ultimately the one that ended up trumping that of others, to the point where anyone’s opinion on him in a positive light was just swept aside. But, of course, that came with consequences, and the young brunette supposed that this was him paying them as he sat alone at his table, a throbbing headache and a room that would spin slightly if he looked too hard. Ethan reached weakly for his phone, which rested gently near the edge of the table, so close that it could be easily pushed off with just the wrong turn of his hand. Ethan gripped it steadily, pulling it closer to himself, not even pausing a second before he lowered the brightness on his device. He supposed he could have just switched to dark mode at that point; the light was bothering him as he scrolled through his apps, trying to remember where the app to _call someone_ was because he couldn’t remember the last time he had intentionally called someone. Not because the young brunette was forgetful…because he had no intention of bothering anyone to actually have a verbal discussion when he could easily text them by _quite literally_ the press of a button.

Ethan groaned, scrolling through his contacts until his gaze settled on the one he was looking for. _Sean McLoughlin_. The younger man had intended on calling him earlier, when he locked up the daycare center, to be exact, but his mind had been wandering and he had soon forgotten. He supposed that if he didn’t call him now, the original thought would be _completely_ forgotten by morning, and it would be harder to get everything squared away if it hadn’t been settled. So, Ethan reluctantly tapped on his close friend’s contact, bringing the phone to his ear as he slumped down in his chair again, waiting patiently to hear the soft humming of Sean from the other end. Instead, he was greeted by the repetitive ringing for a few seconds, echoing in his ear and causing his heart to thump heavier with anticipation. Ethan always got that way, though. He only ever called people for intention, and it upset him when he heard the other line ringing on forever.

Finally, the ringing stop and he could hear the sound of Sean from the other line, first clearing his throat before he spoke. “What’s up?” Sean asked finally. He didn’t seem frustrated, considering Ethan didn’t know for sure if the phone call was cutting into Sean’s date with his girlfriend. The young brunette’s eyes widened slightly. If that was the case, he would rather wait to call his friend the following day. “You okay, dude?” Sean continued, noticing how the young brunette hadn’t exactly answered his first question when he had originally picked up the phone. “Usually you’re not the kind of guy to call someone. If you’re not comfortable, you can just shoot me a text. I don’t mind.”

“I’m not cutting into your date, am I?” Ethan asked hesitantly, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at the nearby wall. “Because, if I am, then I can just talk to you later. It’s not a real big deal, and I shouldn’t have even called you in the first place, and I just hope you’re not out in public on a date answering the _phone_ for me because we both know well enough that girls hate that. I could have just texted you…God, you should have just ignored the phone call.” Ethan rambled on for a few more seconds about how he should just be getting to bed anyway, and that he didn’t have any intentions of bothering Sean, and how he hoped their date was going well and that he didn’t ruin everything, all along with adding a soft ‘as usual’.

“Don’t worry about it, dude,” Sean chuckled, obviously finding what the young brunette was saying absurd as he cleared his throat. “Evelien already went back to her apartment; we finished our date.” The Irish man cleared his throat. “But, even if we _hadn’t_ , you know dan well I would have picked up the phone because Ethan Nestor doesn’t call anyone unless it’s _urgent_.” Ethan smiled a bit, shrugging his shoulders playfully, although he knew the older man couldn’t exactly see him. “So. What’s up?” Sean questioned again.

“Well, I was just wondering something about shifts on Monday,” Ethan mentioned. “You know, since I was introduced to different shift time.” He cleared his throat, thinking for a few seconds. “I just found that….being able to take care of only _one_ child, even if it was only for the last hour, was much more enjoyable than the shift that I currently hold during the morning. Now, I know how you are. You’re a morning person. You like getting up in the morning and you like getting active, and you like being able to have time in the evening. That’s understandable.” Sean hummed simply in return. “Well, you know me. I don’t like mornings. I don’t like having to go places, even if I’m getting paid to do it…and I don’t have much to do during the evenings. There’s no point in me trying to bargain more time for myself if I’m ever going to find a way to use it. What could I possibly use the evening for? It’s not like I go anywhere or have any _intentions_ of going anywhere…and it’s not like I have anyone in my life to pass the time with.” He paused thoughtfully. “It’s quite the predicament, if I had to place my opinion into the situation.” The young man couldn’t see Sean, but he knew well enough the man was rolling his eyes playfully in return.

“What were you suggesting?” Sean questioned, humming underneath his breath.

“Well, I was graciously _offering_ for us to switch shifts from now on,” Ethan squeaked with embarrassment, running his hand through his hair. “I just think it would be easier on both of our interests. Besides, I want to be able to have the shift that isn’t so… _chaotic_.” Sean laughed heartily from the other end of the phone. “Seriously, Sean, those kids can be _awful_ sometimes. I would rather have the shift where I get to spend at _least_ an hour reading with Charlotte, or watching her draw, or doing something that doesn’t include breaking up fights or having to suggests new things for them to do because half of them grow bored every fifteen minutes. You can’t win with that, Sean. At least, _I_ can’t. I’ve seen you’ you’re good with thinking on your feet. You’re the kind of guy who can handle situations that I myself can’t, which is why switching shifts would be great for _both_ of us.”

“That’s all you had to say, dude,” Sean scoffed, chuckling softly from the other line of the phone. He paused before clearing his throat. “I dunno, though…we should probably talk all of this over with Rebecca first, you know?”

“What does she care?” Ethan questioned, smiling a bit. “As long as she’s not the one having to look after them, she’ll let us switch any day of the week. We could switch back and forth every _hour_ if we wanted to, that wouldn’t change the fact that she wouldn’t bat an eye. You could bring a new person in and she would hardly even notice, and she would hardly even ask what their name was, as long as they signed that stupid clipboard.” The young brunette smiled a bit as he heard the older man cackling from the other end of the phone, but his smile was soon replaced with a soft groan of discomfort as he felt his temples start throbbing again. He supposed they didn’t exactly _stop_ just because he decided to think about something else, but he could hav only hoped that they wouldn’t have come back so soon.

“You okay, dude?” Sean asked, his voice shifting to something littered with seriousness.

“What?” Ethan asked softly, blinking heavily. He cleared his throat, realizing that the older man had obviously heard him from the phone. “Oh, yeah, just a headache is all…a little dizzy,” he admitted, his voice trailing off as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ll be fine.”

“I would drink some water,” Sean recommended. “Get something to eat if you haven’t already. I know you’re not keen on bringing food into the daycare center, for whatever reason, so I’m sure today has been a long day for you.” The younger man hummed in return, running his hand through his hair as he looked back up at the ceiling. “On that note, did you meet Mr. Fischbach?”

“Mark?” Ethan hummed groggily in return. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I met him.”

“Oh, his first name’s Mark?” Sean questioned in return, chuckling softly after a few seconds. “Of _course_ he tells _you_ his first name upon meeting you. I’ve been working that shift for almost two months, dude. He gives the good ol’ _thanks for watching her, Sean,_ or g _ood to see you again_. He’s never mentioned his name before.” Ethan simply hummed in. return, starting to think that he should listen to Sean’s advice of getting water. “Well, anyway, he’s a really nice guy, as you probably already know.” The young brunette hummed in agreement. “Charlotte’s father really does love her with all of his heart, and it really shows when he comes to pick her up. Most of the other dads seem like they’re half-asking the whole thing, as if their wives or girlfriends had to _beg_ for them to drag themselves over ad complete a simple task. They don’t even put on a smile for the kid half the time, regardless if it’s theirs or not.”

“Well, that’s great for Mark,” Ethan replied simply. He took another heavy breath, holding it in his chest for a few seconds before exhaling. The young man continued speaking before his friend could ask him if he was alright. “I’m just glad that despite everything they’ve been through, they still manage to have a supportive relationship and a stablefamily dynamic, even if it’s just, you know, the two of them.” Sean hummed in agreement. “So…how about it, Sean?” He questioned finally, clearing his throat as he closed his eyes, the lights in the kitchen of his apartment starting to bother him. “Switch shifts?”

“Sounds like a plan to me, as long as Becky doesn’t complain about it,” Sean replied. The younger man couldn’t even see him, but he knew well enough he was smiling. “I hope you enjoy being able to sleep in from now on; good God, dude. You sound tired as _hell_. What were you even doing today? How late did you stay _up_ last night?”

“Just a lil’ bit of fatigue, I guess,” Ethan replied softly, giving a weak shrug of his shoulders as he kept his eyes closed. The young brunette had hardly been doing anything the night before. He went to sleep at a normal time, got a decent amount of rest…it should have gotten him through the day, not to mention a cup of coffee that followed. “I’ll be alright. It’s happened before.” The Irish man on the other end of the line didn’t say anything, pausing thoughtfully. Ethan let out a soft breath, reluctantly running his hand through his hair, applying pressure from his wrist onto his left temple, and letting out a wince. “Look, I gotta go,” he murmured quickly, pressing his fingers gently against his forehead in attempts to get the pain to go away. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow about this, got it?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sean questioned quickly, asking him with intentions of keeping him on the line. “You don’t sound okay.”

“I’m fine,” Ethan insisted.

“Ethan, I know when you’re fine and when you’re not fine,” the older man replied sternly, his voice serious for once. “Why are you off in such a rush? It’s one thing to say that you’re dizzy and that you have a headache, but it’s another thing for you to push it aside and then have to go out of no where, without even bothering to give an explanation as to what you’re doing.” 

“I said I’m fine,” the young brunette repeated lowly, his voice littered with agitation and frustration as he snapped back at his friend. He gave a heavy sigh. “None of what I do is your business anyway.” Ethan sucked in a deep breath, recollecting himself as he finally opened his eyes, his gaze being fixed somewhere off in the distance, at the wall across from him. He knew well enough trying to get Sean off his back was pointless, especially considering how the Irish man hadn’t exactly done anything wrong…he was just looking out for him. Ethan could hardly understand why, though. “I’ve just had a _really_ busy day today, you know? I mean, you threw the whole covering shifts thing on me last minute and I just didn’t know what I was _supposed_ to say. You can’t exactly say no to someone requesting for you to cover a shift so they can go on a simple date with their _girlfriend_. What was I supposed to tell you? That I didn’t feel like it? That I just didn’t want to do it? Today was just a _long day_. I’m _tired_. I’m not fucking dying, or anything. Don’t bother bending over backward to see if I’m okay when I’ve already told you that I’m fine to begin with.”

“I just don’t understand why you’re being uptight about telling me you’re getting some rest…”

Ethan pulled the phone away from his ear, muttering underneath his breath as he pressed the end-call button, resting his phone down firmly on the table before leaning forward in his chair. The young brunette propped his elbows up on the kitchen table, holding his head in his hands again and letting out a heavy sigh, his breath quivering and his shoulders trembling slightly as he wiped his eyes gently with his wrists. The young man could feel his heart aching in his chest as he sat alone in his apartment, the light above him starting to flicker. He shifted in the wood seat, reluctantly leaning back in his seat and looking up at the ceiling. Ethan felt so… _incredibly_ …alone; reasonable, considering the young man lived by himself. God, why the young man hadn’t just agreed to live with his parents or something…he sighed at the thought, his heart sinking in his chest. The young man glanced back at his phone again, debating if he wanted to call Sean back…part of him felt as if it just wouldn’t be right of him, considering how he had hung up so abruptly. He reached his hand over, pushing the phone further away from himself.

Ethan reluctantly stood up from his chair, gripping the edge of the table firmly to hold himself up. He took a small breath. He supposed he could just sleep it off…maybe he would be able to wake up without a headache in the morning, since the young brunette would be able to sleep in a bit later. Ethan gave a half-smile at himself, supposing that was the good thing that came with the weekend. The young brunette could feel his heart in his throat as he reached for his phone again. Not because he was going to call Sean, or anything, but because he had intentions of going to bed. However, something caught his attention before he could leave. Ethan glanced over at his fridge, smiling a bit when he noticed that same drawing he had taped up on the fridge door only yesterday. The young man shifted, leaning against the table as his gaze lingered a little longer. He couldn’t help but give a half-smile as he noticed the green hair again, sticking out vibrantly against the rest of the drawing. The young man was smiling genuinely, his eyes softening a bit. For a few seconds, he thought back to that very evening, when it had just been him and Charlotte together in the room. When the young girl had offered him a fruit cup…all because she had noticed how the brunette wasn’t eating during the day. Most of the other kids didn’t even think anything of it, just accepting the fact that he must have been forgetting his lunch repeatedly.

Ethan glanced down at the time on his phone. Past nine. He hardly ever went to bed at this time; he knew well enough the only part of him that _wanted_ to go to bed was only doing it so the headache would go away. The young brunette sighed reluctantly, reaching over to the fridge door and opening it. Ethan hummed underneath his breath, shifting his weight from one foot to to other as his eyes weakly scanned up and down the contents of his fridge. He supposed he would have to go shopping over the weekend, considering there wasn’t much left. Just because he didn’t _like_ eating didn’t mean that he didn’t need it to survive. He reached over to his leftovers from two nights ago, humming softly. Salad. He supposed salad didn’t exactly taste _good_ when it was left untouched in a fridge for that long, but he supposed it was better than something. All he could think about was how _happy_ the young girl had been when he decided to eat something. Ethan sighed softly, reaching for the container and resting it gently on the table. He supposed it was the least he could do.

∞§—————§∞

Mark hummed softly as he reached for the plate gingerly, making sure to be careful with it as he returned the dish to the stack of identical ones in the cabinet adjacent to the sink. The older man was cleaning up after dinner, whistling softly under his breath as he did so. Mark hadn’t quite had time to make anything that night, so he had simply just served leftovers from the night before. Charlotte hadn’t complained a bout it, though. She was good about that, to the point where the older man as almost amazed by it…despite her young age, she just seemed so understanding and grateful for almost everything. Mark smiled as he reached for the other plate that was resting in the sink, carrying the same whistling tune. The older man had instructed for his daughter to get washed up, meaning for her to brush her teeth and hopefully put on her pajamas on the right way, instead of backward. He had promised to come in to tuck her in after a few minutes while eh was cleaning, which was a promise Mark intended on keeping. He gave a final hum of content as he reached for the rag, wiping the water off carefully before he placed it in the cabinet with the others.

Mark smiled softly, re-tucking his shirt into his dress pants, even though he knew well enough he wasn’t at work anymore. Habit, he supposed. The older man had taken off his blazer, though, which he had returned to his closet among the rest of his clothes. The older man wiped his hands carefully on the hand towel before he rested it aside, making his way over to his daughter’s bedroom, as he had promised. Mark smiled as he stood in the doorway, his attention focusing in the room as he noticed his daughter sitting on the bed in her nightgown, sitting up as the blankets draped over her lower half. The older man smiled, noticing how she giggled happily, shifting a bit. “Alrighty, Charlotte, officially time for bed,” he said gently, walking into the room. His daughter gave a slight pout from his words, the older man sitting down at the edge of her bed. “I know, you wanna stay up later,” he mentioned, chuckling softly. “But we’re going to the park tomorrow, and I want you to be rested. Okay?” Charlotte didn’t say anything, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes of her.

“Bedtime,” Mark insisted in a whisper, carefully pulling the covers up to his daughter’s shoulder. He shifted off of the bed carefully, standing gently beside the bed before leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss against his daughter’s forehead. “You can stay up a little later tomorrow night, how about that?” He offered gently. “We can watch a movie.”

“Can you read me a story?” Charlotte asked softly, her eyes pleading as she looked up at her father. The older man simply chuckled softly in return, giving a small shake of his head. He knew well enough that one book would turn into two books, which would turn into _only a small handful_ of books, each one with more pages than the next; and, almost coincidentally, Charlotte would take a longer time to look at the pictures each time, lengthening the amount of time she was allowed to stay up by. Nevertheless, his daughter was persistent, which she must have inherited from her mother, for Mark often found himself giving into absolutely _everything_ so easily…an unlikely pair of a persistent daughter and an almost care-free father. “ _Pleeease_?” Charlotte continued in a whine, her voice trailing off as she looked up at her father pleadingly. The older man bit his lip, not yet saying anything as he looked down at his daughter, noticing how she shifted again and looked up at him insistently, not yet giving in. Mark knew well enough that she _wouldn’t_ give in, of course. He simply chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as he gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, smiling gently.

“Mm, one of these days your Jedi mind-tricks won’t work on me,” the older man mentioned, even though he knew well enough his daughter didn’t even know what Star Wars was. “But…I’m afraid they’ve worked tonight.” Charlotte giggled softly, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she sat up in bed again. “You may pick out _one_ book. _One_. Not two, not three, not four. One book of your choosing, and I will read it to you…but you have to promise me that you’re going to go to bed _directly_ afterward. Can we agree on that?” Charlotte nodded eagerly in understanding, shifting slightly around on the bed. “Go get one, kiddo,” the older man continued gently, kissing the top of her head gently. “Hurry back.”

“I will,” Charlotte giggles softly, her eyes lighting up as she threw the covers off of herself. Mark smiled proudly as he watched his daughter slip out of bed, straightening her nightgown before she toddled out of her bedroom. All of the picture books were kept in the family room on a small bookshelf, low to the ground so it could be used as a stand for the TV. The older man hummed softly as he waited for his daughter to return with a book. He glanced around her room gently, smiling softly. Mark’s attention was then fixed beside him, noticing the stuffed animals beside him, which his daughter slept beside for comfort. He chuckled softly as he reached for two of them, the dandelion yellow duck and the indigo rabbit. Mark smiled softly; he could still remember when he had bought them for her. It had been a week after her mother left…and, despite Charlotte not even being old enough to understand what was happening at the time, Mark had felt incredibly guilty. _Beside himself_. All he had been able to do was just sit around, knowing well enough that although Charlotte would notice the absence of her mother, she would soon forget. And she had. The older man smiled. He had bought her the series of stuffed animals once he saw them in a toyshop that he and his girlfriend used to shop at before Charlotte was born.

“Found one!” Mark heard the younger girl announce proudly from the door. The older man glanced over his left shoulder at the doorway, smiling a bit when he saw Charlotte standing with a book, carefully toddling into the room. He waited patiently, watching as she smiled pridefully. “We never read this one before,” she mentioned thoughtfully. Mark cocked an eyebrow slightly, watching as the younger girl placed the book on the bed, slowly hoisting herself up to sit beside her father. Mark redirected his attention to what book she had selected, slightly confused considering he was almost positive they must have reread each story they owned at least five times. However, the older man couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he looked down at the book, reaching for it carefully and holding it in his arms. Charlotte leaned on him gently. “Have you read it?” She asked curiously, leaning against his shoulder before glancing up at him. The older man chuckled softly, giving a small nod of his head before he cleared his throat.

“Baby, this is a photo album,” Mark mentioned softly, smiling as he looked down at the album; it was something that contained memories…most of which he probably hadn’t heard about ever since the day they had been placed in the album, not soon after they had been taken. God, it contained almost everything. Photos from when his girlfriend was pregnant…photos of Charlotte in the hospital…a small period of time where the three of them had lived together as a family before she left. Most of it was still left empty, since the older man had never truly gotten around to completing it. He had just never found the time or the proper intention. Charlotte looked up at him curiously, not quite understanding. “It’s not a _real_ book,” Mark explained gently, resting the photo album aside before giving his daughter a loving smile. “It’s just got pictures of you and me….and your Mommy. A few family friends…just some pictures that we’ve taken over the past six or seven years. There are no words in it, and there are no funny characters. Just… _us_.” He smiled softly. “Why don’t you pick out another book?” Mark suggested gently.

“I wanna see pictures,” Charlotte mentioned softy, pointing gently to the photo album.

“Well, some of the pictures are boring,” Mark admitted, chuckling softly. He watched as his daughter leaned over nevertheless, reaching for the photo album before dragging it onto her lap. “And some of them don’t make sense…I’m not even sure we would be able to read it all in one night.” Nevertheless, Charlotte simply looked at him with a smile, steadily placing the photo album in her father’s lap, still as persistent as she ever was. The older man couldn’t help but smile as his daughter curled up beside him, a visible look of curiosity flickering in her dark almond eyes as she glanced down at the photo album again, obviously interested in the contents it held. “Maybe just a few pages,” the older man mentioned reluctantly, the girl giggling softly as she watched her father slowly opening the first page of the photo album, his eyes lighting up as he looked at the arrangement of pictures that had been slipped into the thin plastic slots. Smiling faces, happy moments… _loving moments_. Mark couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he looked gently at all the things he had seemingly forgotten. At least, all the things that he had no original intention of purposely remembering.

Mark’s heart melted at the sight of the first few images on the page, the memories starting to wash over him again…almost as if he was reliving them. “Wow…” was all he could manage, a breathless smile spreading across his face. The older man found himself being more excited than his daughter at he sat at the edge of her bed, Charlotte curling up beside him and looking down at the pictures with curiosity. “These are from when you were born…” he whispered, his voice trailing off lightly as his heart fluttered in his chest. God, it felt as if he was being swept back to the most stressful…yet the most _peaceful_ day of his life; five years ago. “Look, look at that,” Mark chuckled, grinning happily as he pointed down to one of the photos. “That’s you…that’s you when you were born.” The older man could be seen in the photo holding his daughter, who was carefully swaddled in a hospital blanket, patterned with an assortment of pastel stripes. He was standing, his eyes filled with tears as he held his daughter. Mark couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he remembered. He had been wearing a surgical cap and a sky blue shirt cover, a thin plastic bag texture to it. He had been required to put it on to be in the same room with his girlfriend, since she had been having a C-Section. 

“Were you ‘cited?” Charlotte giggled softly.

Mark gave a weak smile. “Excited for you to be born?” He questioned for clarification. She nodded. The older man gave a nod. “Of course,” he lied, looking down at his daughter lovingly. However, as much as he hated to think about it…having Charlotte was the last thing he had wanted five years ago. The only thing Mark could remember about his girlfriend’s pregnancy was how _frustrated_ he had been the entire time, ad how he had always brought up the topic of getting an abortion. He couldn’t quite remember what had been going through his mind at the time, but he had been so _insistent_ that having a child would ruin everything; that they weren’t old enough to be having children. Mark could remember staying up late nights, trying to persuade his girlfriend against going through with everything. During the first month, all he wanted to talk about was ‘getting rid of it’. How he didn’t want a kid, and how he knew his girlfriend didn’t want a kid either. But the woman had been so insistent that she just _couldn’t_ do that. Mark had remembered crying so _profusely_ one night because he didn’t think he could do it; he didn’t think he could be a father…that any child could possibly _want_ him for a father. Whenever he thought about a child…he thought about how doubtful he was of himself ad his capabilities to raise a son or daughter properly. He wasn’t exactly fresh out of college, but he didn’t have the perfect job, either.

Every day during the final month of his girlfriend’s pregnancy, Mark would find himself dreading what was going to happen…dreading the baby. At that point, he knew the gender of the baby. A girl. They hadn’t thought of a name yet, but his girlfriend always claimed that they would just know when they saw her. The last thing Mark had wanted at the time was a baby…the last thing he had wanted was a _daughter_. But Mark never left her…he never left his girlfriend’s side during her pregnancy because he couldn’t imagine leaving someone he loved to take care of a baby on her own. So, he had stayed. He had stayed through all nine months of his girlfriend’s pregnancy, dreading almost every single day as he counted them down, expecting his life to turn into a living hell once his daughter was born. The older man had assumed that everyone would be flipped completely upside-down the second his daughter was born. Mark only worried that they would be left in seemingly impossible debt, and that they would never truly be able to recover financially; it had scared him.

Mark had remembered standing to the side of the hospital room, watching with impossibly unbroken attention during his girlfriend’s C-Section, since something hadn’t gone exactly right when she was in labor. He remembered one of the nurses holding a camera, promising she would take as many photos of the baby as she could, although Mark had cared less during those seconds. He had just simply watched, his eyes not being particularly drawn to the situation. All he could think about was how all of this seemed so incredibly rushed…how it just seemed all _wrong_. All he could think about was how careless the two of them must have been to end up in that situation, and how he just wanted to turn back time and redo everything. But then, he heard screaming. A baby crying. He remembered everything being an absolute blur of shouting and cooing and excited praise. All while Mark simply stood there, not yet knowing what to do with himself. But then, he remembered one of the nurses so clearly asking him through the commotion if he wanted to hold his daughter. Mark had been hesitant, insisting that his girlfriend should be the one, but the doctors insisted that she couldn’t while she was being stitched up…it would either be him, or one of the nurses.

Mark had reluctantly accepted, his body language more gentle as his daughter, wrapped in a swaddling blanket, had been placed in his arms. Within the next second, the older man remembered himself becoming undone…every single wall that he had built up for himself during those nine months became knocked down at once. He just remembered looking down at his daughter…holding her gently in his arms and wanting to _sob_. At that very moment, Mark had regretted everything he originally thought about having a baby. The only thing he cared about at that second was his daughter…all he could think about was how _perfect_ she was…and how she had his eyes. And then, he just remembered smiling profusely through tears, murmuring _Charlotte_ so gently underneath his breath that the nurses couldn’t even understand what he was attempting to say, but he didn’t care. Mark had been so… _undeniably_ happy.

“I loved you from the second I held you in my arms,” Mark whispered softly, his voice truthful as he felt Charlotte press against him gently. “I knew, right then and there, that you were special.” He kissed the top of his daughter’s head gently, giving her a warm smile as he looked at the other photos. One of Charlotte lying in the hospital crib, a lavender striped hat placed gently on her head as she slept peacefully. Surprisingly…there weren’t any photos of his girlfriend. The older man must have taken them out some time ago in attempts to forget, although he wasn’t quite sure where he had placed them. Nevertheless, his eyes scanned over the page before he hesitantly turned it over, moving onto the next. These photos weren’t taken much longer after the first; Mark could be seen holding his daughter by her new crib at their apartment, in the very same room where they currently were, except a crib had been there in place of a bed. 

The photos continued on. Holidays, her first few birthdays…he chuckled softly at the sight of her pastel pink dress from her first birthday. Then, they stumbled upon the pictures from Charlotte’s first trip to the beach. His daughter smiled softly as she eagerly pointed to one of the photos; the photograph was identical to the one in the hallway. “I seen that one,” she mentioned softly. Mark nodded gently in agreement. Charlotte hummed softly as she studied the picture, her eyes lingering for a few seconds before they wandered around the page. “Who’s that?” She asked softly, hesitantly pointing her finger down to one of the photos. Mark followed her gaze, his heart sinking a bit when he realized. He must have forgotten to take out one of the pictures, for he could see a picture of the three of them; his girlfriend was holding Charlotte gently in her lap, wearing a juniper bucket hat of her own, smiling happily. The woman was wearing a basil green tank top and shorts, the both of them sitting on the rocks found at the edge of the beach, most likely finding someone who was nice enough to take their photo for them.

“That’s your mommy,” Mark whispered softly, giving a weak smile.

“Oh…” Charlotte said softly. She shifted. “She’s pretty.”

Mark smiled softly, giving his daughter a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Mhm,” he hummed in agreement, looking down at the photograph. “She’s very pretty.” Mark’s eyes lingered for a few seconds, his heart aching; not because he missed the woman, or because he still loved her…but because he knew his daughter _longed_ for someone. Someone like the mother she once had. 

“Did Mommy love you?” Charlotte continued gently, glancing up at her father.

Mark said nothing for a few seconds, recollecting his thoughts as he smiled sadly, giving a small nod of his head. “Your mommy loved you and me _very very much_ ,” he assured his daughter. It was the truth. The woman had loved the two of them…just not as much as Mark had hoped. “Your mommy’s the one who bought that charm bracelet for you…the one you like wearing so much.” Charlotte gave a half-smile. 

“Did you love Mommy?”

Mark frowned a bit, swallowing thickly. His heart ached. “Yes…” he breathed out softly. “Yes, I loved your mommy very very much. We both loved each other…and we both loved you. _I_ love you.” He wrapped a gentle arm around his daughter. “But…as much as your mommy loved me and you…she met someone else. She met someone else to love, and he made her very very happy.” Charlotte gave a small nod, not quite understanding. “So…your mommy decided that as much as she loved the two of us…she wanted to be happy with a new family.”

“Did mommy not like us?”

“No, angel, your mommy loved you very much,” Mark assured his daughter, stroking her hair gently. “She just met someone else. We…we want your mommy to be happy, don’t we?” Charlotte thought for a few seconds before sadly nodding her head.

“Not fair, though…” she whispered. “I don’t wanna share her.”

“I didn’t wanna share her either, kiddo,” Mark mentioned softly, continuing to gently stroke his daughter’s hair. “But, sometimes…you have to let people be happy; even if it makes you sad.”

“Do you miss mommy?”

Mark smiled softly, a genuine smile. He shook his head. “No,” he replied softly, pressing a gentle kiss against his daughter’s forehead. “I have you, princess. I don’t need anyone else to make me happy.” The young girl giggled as she leaned on her father tiredly. The man gently closed the photo album, resting it aside. “I think it’s time for bed…” he whispered, and his daughter didn’t bother protesting. Mark gently pulled the covers over her, resting her stuffed animals beside her.

“Love you…” Charlotte yawned.

“I love you more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say this every chapter I write, but *thank you guys soooo much* for all of the support you’ve been giving “Baby of Mine”. I’ve never woken up before and been so excited to read comments as much as I have these past two days, and I’m so glad that you guys love reading this fic as much as I love writing it. How do I get chapters out so fast? Determination. I want to deliver the best fic I possibly can. Despite that longing, I do still want to have a steady word count, and chapters that aren’t fillers. Each chapter has to have a purpose.
> 
> This one might be a little harder for me to write, since I’ve never included an eating disorder in any story I’ve written, but I think fics are a great place for me to experiment. I’ve had a *lot* of firsts on AO3. Smut, multiple points of view, writing in the third person, eating disorders; the list goes on forever. I’m just glad you guys were so eager to jump from “Fifty Feet in the Air” to “Baby of Mine”, something that I wasn’t so sure was going to work. But, thankfully, you guys seem to actually like reading B.O.M.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys didn’t mind two points of view in the same chapter. Both portions just seemed too short to have on their own, so I wanted to put them together. I don’t wanna skimp on the word count, you know? Let’s get this bitch to 100k fast, lol.
> 
> Kudos + Comments always appreciated.
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply!


	6. My Missing Piece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> Just a few bonus facts about this story:  
> 1\. I'm usually watching Mark play FNaF while I write, which is why Charlotte's stuffed animals are based on some of the characters (Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy)
> 
> 2\. All of the photographs described in this piece are based on photos I have in my own photo album. (I still remember going to the beach with my dad, even though I was *much much* younger)
> 
> \------
> 
> Have fun reading!

Mark ran a hesitant hand through his hair, the older man sitting alone on his bed. He let out a saddened sigh, his heart in his throat; the man could feel his own heartbeat echoing in his ears, slowly and steadily and _sadly_. He weakly glanced at the analog clock which sat atop his nightstand, continuously and repeatedly blinking, seemingly reminding the man that he was _still_ up when he should have been asleep. Nevertheless, he wasn’t asleep. He wasn’t tired. There wasn’t a single part of his body that wanted him too lay down and just get rest. Mark simply listened to his own heartbeat, his shoulders slumped forward with the rest of his body as he sat at the edge of the bed, his legs hanging over the side. The older man had _originally_ intended on going to bed after he tucked his daughter in. He had intended on resting up for the following day, so he could go to the park with her early. But that didn’t happen. Instead, the older man had been foolish enough to reach for the photo album…instead of returning it to the bookshelf, he had made the mistake of bringing it with him to his bedroom. The next thing he knew, he was reluctantly flipping through the remaining pages, smiling sadly.

Mark’s eyes had longingly lingered to each picture, knowing well enough that his girlfriend was always the one taking them…she might not have been in the pictures, but she might as well have been. Each time the older man looked at a photograph, he was reminded of the wonderful time they had managed to spend together. Whenever he saw any of the photos…it was as if he was transported back, and he could remember his girlfriend’s loving smile when she held her phone. He could remember how she cooed gently for Charlotte to look at the camera, although she never seemed to follow through with it. Mark could picture his girlfriend taking each photo, even when she wasn’t in them, and that was what he found almost unsettling, How she seemed to _always_ be on his mind, despite the fact that he knew well enough he would never take her back, even if she _did_ miraculously return to them. Not after what she had done, of course; Mark could pretend he had forgiven the woman as much as he wanted when his daughter brought up the conversation, but he knew well enough how upset the entire ordeal made him. 

She had _left_ them. His girlfriend hadn’t even second-guessed herself or what she had done. Mark had promised that they could fix everything…when he found out about the life that his girlfriend had kept so secret to himself, and the people she shared it with…he had been so pathetically _forgiving_. The older man had insisted that they could work through it, and that everything would be okay. He promised his girlfriend that he believed she could change, and that he knew that she was a better person.

∞§—————§∞

_“I just…I’m_ trying _to understand,” Mark choked out, Kaitlyn sitting on the couch, her head in her hands as she hid her face. “I’m…I’m not_ upset _, I just…I thought…” the older man found his eyes pooling with tears as he stood in the living room of his apartment, his heart in his throat as he attempted to make sense of everything that was happening. God, part of him knew well enough that ignorance was bliss, but he couldn’t just_ ignore _what he saw…ignore all of those texts that would just stream through dramatically. The older man had originally ignored the constant dinging from her phone…her_ disappearances _and how she was just going on business trips to Colorado so frequently to sort through business proposals. For some reason, the older man had just accepted everything, believing_ every little thing _that his girlfriend told him. Trusting her will all of his heart because she had been so kind to him beforehand, and because she had insisted that their relationship would survive past having a baby…and even Mark himself had believed that everything would be alright. That everything was fine…he truly believed that their life was perfect. They both had stable jobs…Kaitlyn’s sister would come over to watch the bay when they were at work. And, from what Mark had been lead to believe…they were_ happy _._

_“I’m_ trying _to understand,” Mark repeated, his voice breaking as he ran his hand through his hair with frustration, not even knowing what he was supposed to say to her…how he was supposed to start the conversation. “I love you, Katy. I…I’ve loved you for so long, and you told me that you loved me too. You told me that everything was going to be okay, and that we were just going to live as a happy family. And I believed you…I_ believe _you.” Kaitlyn looked up at him weakly, her eyes softening at the sight of her boyfriend, practically a mess as he stood in front of her. “We…we can work through this. We’ve worked through everything together before, this isn’t any different…none of this is any different. You just need to_ tell me _why you’re doing this…why you_ did this _. To me, to him, to_ Charlotte _. I know that you care about us, Katy, I know you do…and I know that even_ you _know the severity of everything, and that you feel guilty. I don’t_ want you _to have to feel guilty, you already know that what you did was wrong, but it’s okay.”_

_“Mark…” Kaitlyn breathed out weakly._

_“No,” the older man returned sharply, taking a deep breath to steady his voice. He didn’t want to yell…Charlotte was sleeping in her bedroom only a room over, and Mark didn’t want to get her involved with anything that was going on. That wasn’t her place…although it concerned her, she wouldn’t understand what was going on, even if her parents attempted to explain. “No, just…let me speak. You’ve tried explaining yourself over and over, but you don’t_ have to _. You don’t have to because I’m willing to just forget, I’m willing to just push everything behind us. If we can focus on the future, we don’t need to worry about the past.” Mark gave a weak,_ frantic _smile, unsure if he was trying to convince Kaitlyn to stay…or if he was just convincing himself that he still needed her in his life. “I…we…we’ve worked through so much before. We worked through your new job, we managed to find a way to support ourselves and make sure Charlotte was taken care of. Your-your sister…she’s been so helpful, you know that. We’ve been focusing so much on work, I know._ I know _. I…you…you can keep working, I can stay home with Charlotte. I know that’s been difficult for you to adjust to with a new opportunity, and I don’t want you to give that up.”_

_“There’s no_ job _, Mark,” Kaitlyn choked out, her voice shaking as she looked down at her hands, similar to how a child wouldn’t look their parents in the eye whenever they broke something. “There’s no…_ business opportunity _. No promotions…no company. There’s nothing, fucking_ Christ _.” Mark stood there weakly, swallowing thickly as he just looked to his girlfriend, his eyes not growing cold despite her words. “I just….you know how hard all of this has been on me. I was trapped at the house just_ watching her _for so long…God, it grows tiring, Mark. It grew so tiring, I just couldn’t take it anymore, but getting a job…it just…” her voice trailed off as she let out a sigh, shaking her head almost in disbelief. “I met this_ guy _…the one who was texting me…” Kaitlyn bit her lip, glancing to her side as if she was looking for an explanation. Mark didn’t say anything as he simply stood there._

_“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Mark whispered, his eyes pooling with tears as he tried to hold his posture, stopping himself from trembling. “You don’t need to tell me anything about him…about your job, if I should even call it that. You don’t need to tell me why you don’t like it here, and why you don’t like staying at home, and why you thought turning to someone else would help. I_ understand _. I understand well enough that everything was just so overwhelming, and that you didn’t really_ mean _for any of this to happen…but I know that you’re coming to terms with your mistake. We can get through this. God, we’ve been through so much…you and I both know it. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything in the world, Kaitlyn…not even this part. Not even this part, because I know that by tomorrow, all of this will just go away. Everything will be back to the way it was. You can_ really _get a job…I can stay at home with Charlotte myself. You can have everything you ever wanted, and we can be happy again.”_

_Mark sighed. “I should have realized all of this was happening sooner…” he whispered softly, his girlfriend continuing to not hold steady eye contact as she glanced off somewhere else, her eyes weak and teary. “I should have realized that you were drifting away from me, and I should have just tried to comfort you when I had the chance…before all of this happened. I can admit to that. I can admit to the fact that I should have shown more affection, and I should have realized how often you were on your phone, but I didn’t want to invade your_ privacy _.”  
“You were never the problem, Mark…” Kaitlyn returned, weakly shaking her head._

_“No, please, just_ listen _,” Mark begged, clearing his throat. Part of him didn’t even understand why he was doing this…why he was so willing to throw himself under the bus, and just make_ himself _the scapegoat for everything…why he was so willing to let Kaitlyn get away with it all so effortlessly. But then he remembered…God, he_ needed _Kaitlyn. Mark needed Kaitlyn because_ Charlotte _needed Kaitlyn…and the older man needed Charlotte in his life. He couldn’t bear the thought of having to live without her; every day he would find himself regretting how he had thought of the pregnancy in such a horrible light. Whenever he looked at Charlotte…his heart would just warm. Watching her take her first steps had meant absolutely everything to Mark; listening to her babbling incoherently about something of little importance, all while he sat beside her. “I forgive you, darling; I…I_ forgive you _. You don’t need to worry about a single thing. We’re doing this together, okay? I…I love you so much, Katy. I promise. I love you, and I love Charlotte. We’re a family, remember? You would always talk about how excited you were to have a family with me…now we have one._ Together _. We’re starting our_ perfectly _family, and you don’t have to worry about a thing in the world.”_

_“I love him,” was all Kaitlyn could manage, her voice rushed as she quickly cut Mark off. She couldn’t bear the thought of having to listen to her boyfriend insist that everything would be alright, when she knew that she had messed everything up enough herself. It just wasn’t fair to him; it wasn’t fair to Charlotte. “I love him, Mark…Carter. I love him. I know I’m not supposed to, and I know that none of this would have even happened if I hadn’t been so selfish…but it happened. I can’t change that, and I can’t just decide I don’t want to love him anymore. I don’t_ want _to choose, Mark. I…God, I don’t even know if I could. You’ve been so kind to me, so gentle with me…so_ loving _. But it’s…it’s tiresome. I don’t wanna be some_ cookie-cutter wife _, Mark. Identical to the rest of them? I know I should be grateful for everything that I have, but I just needed to get away from it all…and, when I did, I met Carter. He was so_ understanding _of everything I was going through. He wanted to help me. He told me I could be_ free _if I loved him…and I was. Every time I went to Colorado to see him, I just felt so_ undeniably _free.” Mark’s heart sunk lower in his chest as she stood in front of him._

_“I…I can give you freedom,” Mark choked out. “You don’t wanna stay at home and watch Charlotte? I understand.” His voice was so desperate…so_ yearning _. “That’s fine, all you had to do was tell me. I’ll quit my job…I’ll quit everything. I’ll stay at home with her myself, I promise. You can get the job you’ve always wanted, you can pursue your dreams, you can have time for yourself. I promise. I’m not just going to give up on all of this so quickly…how could I do that? How could_ we _do that?” He cleared his throat. “You…you_ know _that you would be making the right decision by staying, Kaitlyn. You know yourself.”_

_“Mark…”_

_“This…this isn’t_ about me _,” Mark gasped, trying to fight the urge to just_ wail. _“I…I love you, Kaitlyn. I love you will all of my heart, but I’m not the only one in this house who loves you._ Charlotte _loves you…Charlotte_ needs _you. She needs a mother in her life. None of this is her fault, darling. You drifted apart from me, I understand that, I_ noticed _that…but Charlotte didn’t notice. She’s so young, Katy. She’s not old enough to understand this,_ please _. Please don’t do this to me…don’t do this to her. Don’t do this to Charlotte.”_

_“Mark, I didn’t want any of this to happen like it is…” Kaitlyn promised, her voice trembling. “I…I was trying to find a way to tell you; a way that wouldn’t_ hurt _you. You know how Charlotte is, Mark. She’ll forget I ever existed in less than a year, it’s all about exposure. She…she doesn’t_ need _me, Mark. You’ve shown her more love the I could have ever even imagined. Throughout my entire pregnancy, I just thought you were going to be a mess of a father…but_ I’m _the one who ended up being the mess. I should have told you all of this sooner…I should have never let any of this_ happen _, but we can’t change the past. What happened…it happened.”_

_“And now Charlotte is supposed to pay the price?” Mark choked out._

_“Mark, you know that-”_

_“No, Katy, I don’t seem to know_ anything _,” the older man exclaimed, quick to cut his girlfriend off. He would be so easy to forgive, yes, but he wouldn’t make a fool of himself when it came to his daughter. “You cannot look me in the eye and tell me that you would just…just_ leave _Charlotte and I. For what? A man you met who doesn’t know you like I know you? I’ve known you for so long, Katy. I’ve loved you for so long, and I’m not just going to give up on this because you’re having second thoughts on everything. I had second thoughts throughout the entire pregnancy, but our life is just so_ perfect _…please. Please, our life can be perfect. We can have the perfect family, and you can have the job of your dreams, and we can be_ happy _. As happy as we were the day we brought Charlotte home…the days we stayed up with her so she wouldn’t cry…as happy as those days. We used to be so happy, Katy…we were_ so happy _, and I don’t wanna let that go. We can be happy again. Let’s just_ be happy _.”_

_“Markie…I’m not_ happy _here anymore,” Kaitlyn whispered, his voice breaking as she shook her head simply. “I’ve been trying so hard to just accept this new life, but I_ can’t _anymore. I thought I could, and I thought that we_ could _be a family together, but it’s just not working anymore. Believe me, Mark, I did love you two. I_ do _love you two…but I can’t. As soon as you suggested that I stay home…”_

_“Katy, you don’t_ have to _,” Mark insisted._

_“It’s not the same anymore,” Kaitlyn insisted, taking a heavy breath before she exhaled deeply. “I_ want _to stay here with you and Charlotte…but this isn’t the life I wanted. This isn’t the life I_ expected _. When I started dating you, you were just so_ carefree _. You were a different person back then…we were_ both _different people.” Mark fell back onto the chair in the living room, resting his elbow on the rm of the chair before carefully holding the side of his face. Part of him could barely believe what he was hearing…that was the same part of him that knew well enough he needed to let Kaitlyn go. That part of him was getting his heart broken mercilessly…torn into pieces right in front of him as he spewed out affectionate remarks in return. The other part of him, however, couldn’t let go. That was the part of Mark that remembered how in love they had been…how happy their family had been. Nevertheless, despite everything…he said nothing. He allowed his girlfriend to speak with desperation, almost as if she was pleading with Mark to convince him to leave her himself…he knew it was only because she was too afraid to do it on her own._

_“Katy, please,” Mark whispered softly, picking his head up and out of his hand as he looked at her. “You can’t do this to us.”_

_“No…I can’t do this_ with _you,” she replied, taking a steady breath. “I can’t just pretend that this life is okay. I’m just not_ satisfied _with it anymore. I thought that this would be amazing, and it_ was _…but it’s so completely and entirely stressful. Sometimes, I…sometimes, I wish I had listened to you when I was pregnant.” The older man’s eyes widened as he sat up in his chair._

_“You don’t mean that…” he whispered._

_“Mark, you know it’s the truth…”_

_“Maybe for you,” Mark replied, shaking his head in disbelief before he glanced to the hallway, noticing the soft pink light from Charlotte’s nightlight pouring out into the hallway. “But not for me…_ never _for me. Charlotte is the best thing that has ever happened to us in this relationship…you can’t just walk away from it like this. You’re not going to take the easy way out of something we can fix with time. What am I supposed to tell her, Katy? That her mommy doesn’t love her anymore? That her mommy doesn’t care enough to stay. I_ want you _to stay. I want to forgive you…but I can’t forgive you if you’re not_ trying _.”_

_“I’m not here to be remorseful,” Kaitlyn sighed. “I…I just didn’t expect you to find out like this. If I had known this would have happened…I would have told you sooner. I should have let you know about him before it got serious, but I didn’t, and I can’t change that.” Mark sat on his chair weakly, not even knowing how to process everything. “I’m…I’m going to stay with my sister for the night,” the young woman said softly, holding her breath as she stood up from the couch. Mark looked at her sadly._

_“No…no, it’s fine,” Mark murmured. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”_

_His girlfriend glanced at him sympathetically, standing up from the couch and glancing down at her hands. After a few seconds, Kaitlyn pulled away from the living room, carefully making her way into the hallway. The older man didn’t even know what to say, his heart sinking in his chest. He couldn’t believe what had just happened…what he had just allowed to happen. Mark hesitantly rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and burying his face in his palms, trying to recollect himself. He could feel his heart beating in his ear as he slowly wrapped his arms around himself, leaning back in the chair. Mark felt his eyes pool with tears as he leaned back in his chair, He bit his tongue sharply, screwing his eyes shut tight as his body tensed up, his shoulders trembling slightly. His heart was in his throat, his heart beating sadly._

∞§—————§∞

Mark sucked in a short breath as he cried softly, a few tears streaming down the side of his face, his cheeks slick already. His eyes were filled with a familiar stinging sensation, his gaze lingering down at the photographs he was holding gently in his hands. Mark had reluctantly went through his nightstand…which was where he found the photographs that included Kaitlyn; the ones he had taken out from the photo album. The ones that he had intentionally removed because he knew well enough that his heart would only sting if he looked down at them again. Not because he loved her…but because he missed the familiar sense of family he had once felt. Mark had once been able to so proudly claim that he was a part of a family…a family that he had loved so dearly. From the moment that Charlotte was born, he truly believed that the three of them would be happy together until the end of their days. That they could be a _proud_ , happy family. But that didn’t happen…that didn’t happen, and he didn’t even know who was to blame anymore. Well enough, however…he knew it was only Kaitlyn. The older man wiped his eyes with then back of his hand, but he just couldn’t help but cry. It had taken him… _so incredibly long_ to stop himself from believing that he himself was to blame. 

Mark rested a few of the photographs aside, his gaze lingering on the one he had reached for first. It was an older photo, one that must have been taken when Charlotte was only a few months old. Somewhere between six and seven months. That had been the year where they had paid for a family photo, something they could put on a Christmas card. Charlotte was wearing a porcelain white dress, adorned with a scarlet collar, juniper fringe near the hem of the skirt. She was sitting gently in Kaitlyn’s lap, giggling happily as she leaned into her mother’s touch. Mark had been sitting beside them, his arm placed gingerly around his girlfriend’s waist. He could remember how _happy_ he had been…how happy _they_ had been. The older man smiled through the tears, gently brushing his fingertips against the photo as he held it carefully on his lap. 

Mark could still remember when he and Kaitlyn had moved into the new apartment…he remembered how excited he had been, despite the circumstances he hadn’t yet appreciated. He remembered discussing how the layout would be, and all Katy could talk about was how excited she was to decorate the baby’s room. Mark had thought nothing of it, of course, simply focusing on the living room and their bedroom. He couldn’t help but smile; he had been so entirely naive to believe that he wouldn’t fall head over heels with affection for his daughter the second she was born. However, at the time, he had thought nothing of it. The older man rested the photo aside, looking at a different one this time. He gave a watery smile, his heart aching whenever he looked at a new one. Mark sniffled softly, his shoulders trembling as he held his head in his hand, trying to recollect himself. He knew well enough that Charlotte was fine without a mother, and that it had hardly affected her upbringing…but he just couldn’t help but feel so _extremely_ guilty that she was gone; there was nothing he could have done anyway, he supposed.

Even almost four years later…part of Mark still wasn’t over it. Part of the older man wanted him back for the sole purpose of Charlotte having another parent in her life again. Someone who could stay home with her…so she wouldn’t have to be taken out of her house and dropped off at daycare every day, apart from the weekends. Although his daughter never complained about the matter at hand, the older man couldn’t help but just feel _wrong_ each time he dropped her off. She would hug him goodbye tightly, a bright smile on her face; she would hold her wave until Mark left, never being the first one to drop her hand. Each time he dropped her off, he could feel his heart sinking in his chest, even though he knew she was in good hands. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop dropping her off…because he needed to work. 

Mark left out a soft sob, his body hunched over slightly as he propped his elbows up on his knees, his breath quivering as he took sharp inhales between each sob. It wasn’t like the older man hadn’t at least _attempted_ dating again…he had. Nothing just ever seemed to work out. As soon as they found out he had children, every man or woman would suddenly just _lose interest_. Of course, he knew well enough that he couldn’t just _not_ tell them…it would be selfish to hold such information and expect a partner to understand once revealed. Of course, every time he said anything about it…they would ghost him. And, of course, with the city being as large as it was…it was almost impossible to find them ever again. Nobody his age seemed to _want_ kids…they wanted to be living their life, just as Kaitlyn had. Everyone he ever dated seemed to be like Kaitlyn…never longing to settle down. It was just so _frustrating_. The older man tried his absolute hardest, but _nothing_ ever seemed to work. Nothing. He had tried over and over, but it was pointless. After almost four years, Mark was just as lonesome as he was the day Kaitlyn left him. Part of him wondered if the young woman thought about him from time to time…thought about the family she left behind so _selfishly_.

“Daddy?” Mark heard someone ask softly. The older man looked up from the palms of his hands, his heart shuttering in his chest when he noticed his daughter standing sheepishly in the hallway, holding her stuffed fox loosely in her left hand. The older man swallowed thickly, recorrecting is posture as he sat at the edge of the bed, swiftly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Having his daughter seeing him cry was the last thing the older man wanted, or ever intended. The joy of being a child was supposed to come with the innocence of thinking that parents never got sad, or that the only thing they ever were was happy. Mark shifted, reaching for the photographs and holding them in his palm before he hesitantly placed them on the nightstand. While he was reaching over, the older man’s eyes settled on the alarm clock. It was almost one in the morning. Why his daughter was up was beyond him.

“Honey, what are you doing up?” Mark questioned groggily, wiping his eyes with his wrist as he shifted on the bed, sniffling a bit. “I didn’t…I didn’t wake you up, did I?” His daughter stood there for a few seconds before hesitantly shaking his head.

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte returned softly. Mark gave a curt nod, wiping his eyes again before blinking heavily, the tears no longer forming in his eyes as he wiped them dry. “Why are you sad?” The young girl continued, slowly toddling into the room. The older man couldn’t help but smile softly, shifting to the side on his bed so his daughter could crawl up beside him. He watched her carefully, noticing how she leaned against his side gently. 

“Was just…looking through the old photo album,” Mark admitted softly, giving a weak smile as he glanced down at his daughter. “Daddy’s not sad, honey.” He paused a little bit. “Do you ever feel home-sick when you’re at daycare? Do you know what that feels like?” The young girl looked up at him shyly before giving a sheepish nod of his head. “Well, that’s how Daddy feels right now. He’s not sad…just a little home-sick.”

“But we’re home,” Charlotte mentioned gently, giving a half-smile.

“Uh-huh, we _are_ home,” Mark chuckled softly, gently tucking a lock of his daughter’s hair behind her ear. He sighed a little bit, pressing a gentle kiss on his daughter’s head. “Maybe I am a little sad,” he mentioned lightly, giving a small shrug of his shoulders as he felt Charlotte leaning into his touch. “But I’ll be alright…I promise.” Mark smiled. “And you know I never break promises, right?” The younger girl smiled, nodding happily. “Good girl.” He paused softly, his heart sinking in his chest slightly when he remembered what he had been thinking about. Nevertheless, Mark cleared his throat. "Charlotte, how would you like it if I found someone who could stay at the house with you all day when I'm at work, so you don't have to go to daycare? Would you like that? You wouldn't have to wake up earlier...you can sleep in as long as you want, and you won't have to worry about going somewhere strange every day. Would that make you happy?"

Charlotte thought for a few seconds before slowly shaking her head. "Nu-uh," she murmured softly. "I like Ethan." The older man couldn't help but chuckle. Of course she did. "He would be lonely if I didn't go every day. I keep him company."

"I'm sure you do," Mark hummed. He thought for a few seconds, getting a small idea. "Well, I suppose Ethan _does_ need you to keep him company."

Charlotte giggled, carefully placing her stuffed fox in her father’s lap. “You can keep him,” she said softly. “He helps me sleep.” The older man smiled, giving his daughter a gentle hug and a kiss on her cheek. “I got the other ones tho, so I don’t need ‘em.”

“Thank you, angel,” Mark cooed softly. He smiled, gently resting the stuffed fox beside him. “Now, princess…I think you should get to bed. For _real_ this time.” His daughter nodded gently. “Do you need me to tuck you in again, or are you a big girl?” 

“Big girl,” Charlotte announced proudly.

“That’s my girl,” Mark cooed. He watched as his daughter slid off of the bed, grinning as she toddled out of the room. The older man glanced at the stuffed fox gently, smiling softly. He never understood how he had gotten so lucky with Charlotte…how she had loved him just the same, despite the absence of her mother. Mark sighed contently as he stood up from his bed, walking over to close the door so he could get changed into his pajamas.

His heart still stung, but it was pending.

Slowly and surely.

It was mending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!   
> I hope you guys liked that flashback. You may be wondering to yourself *why* I included it, to which I can only say that it's for two reasons. One of them won't be revealed, but will *hopefully* be understood, but the other is to give just a bit of background as to why Mark might be protective of Charlotte, and why he wants the best for her. Guilt does wonderful things, but so does love. 
> 
> Anyway, as you guys can already see, this was another bittersweet chapter. And, as you can probably realize, this book is going to be a *slowburn*. Hopefully, you guys don't mind that too much. Don't worry, though. There will be much more interaction with Mark and Ethan coming soon!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for your support! Whether it's comments, kudos, bookmarks, hits, or user subscriptions, I appreciate all the positive feedback that "Baby of Mine" has been receiving.
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated!
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply


	7. Isolation, Invitations, and Ice-Skating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for depriving you of a chapter for a day, lol. This one is a bit on the longer side, and it's where the plot starts to thicken. However, don't think that anything *too* romantic is going to happen anytime soon. This is slow-burn to the extreme, remember? Just like in real life, lol. 
> 
> I honestly can't get enough of writing dialogue for Charlotte. Everything she says is just too damn cute.

Ethan yawned softly, running his hand through his hair as he shifted from the kitchen counter to the table not far beside it. He gripped his second cup of coffee in his hand, almost unlike himself as he carefully lowered himself into his chair. It wasn’t unlike him to have a second cup of coffee, that wasn’t the part that was different. The _different_ part was the fact that he just wasn’t drinking _plain_ coffee. It was something Ethan considered a small feat for himself, _especially_ considering how he was used to drinking it straight, since added sugar or cream was something he couldn’t quite stomach. On usual days, of course, where he would often bite his tongue to stop himself from adding sweetener. This lead to the coffee tasting incredibly bitter, something he had never quite become accustomed to, although he did it nearly every day. As mentioned before, however, it was different. Although adding a tablespoon of sugar wasn’t something that anyone continued overly _adventurous_ , the young man thought of it as such. He smiled to himself proudly as he rested the porcelain white mug down on the table, beside his phone, which was of course flooded with texts from Sean after he had hung up on him on Friday.

Ethan hadn’t answered any of them though, although he periodically checked them throughout to find context. Most of them were, of course, the same thing. Mostly Sean asking him if he was alright, and if he was alive, and if he wanted him to stop by. A series of texts confirming that he was going to switch shifts with him, and saying that he was trying to get in touch with Rebecca to inform her beforehand, so she would know before he showed up. The occasional text asking him if he had drunk any water since the last time he suggested it. The young brunette felt something awful not answering any of his messages, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say, considering that Sean had sent him over a dozen at that point, each one of them just as concerned and thoughtful as the last. Ethan wasn’t sure if _guilt_ was the right word…well, he supposed it was. He felt guilty for not answering; he felt guilty for looking at each of them with such a lock of thoughtfulness for how concerned the Irish man seemed to be, and how he wanted to make sure he was alright.

Nevertheless, Ethan noticed that Sean had stated how he would be switching shifts with him through text, so at least he didn’t need to worry about that; at least they were on the same page. The young brunette sighed softly, humming underneath his breath as he shut his phone off, resting it aside as he had before. Not without looking at the time, of course. 3:40 in the afternoon. The young man cleared his throat. He would probably have to get going in about five minutes in order to make it to the daycare center on time, since he still needed to pick up his shift, but he supposed it wouldn’t take too long to finish his coffee. The young man hummed underneath his breath, drumming his fingers gently on the table as he reached for his coffee mug, feeling the heat radiating off of the warm cup and against the palm of his hand. Usually, Ethan would simply find himself stopping at Starbucks for a cup of coffee, just so he would be able to drink it while he was walking to work. However, since he had found that he had more time in both the morning and afternoon, he didn’t feel as rushed to have to get something out of the house.

The young brunette brought the rim of the cup to his lips, taking a gentle sip as he reached for his phone again with his free hand. Ethan smiled contently, his heart fluttering joyfully in his chest. For once, his coffee actually tasted _good_. It was satisfying to drink, instead of just something he found to be a requirement set for himself. Although part of him felt almost _guilty_ for adding things he had once considered to find so unnecessary…the other part of found that the contentment from it all was enough to balance out the few extra calories that were supplied with it. Surely it couldn’t be that much, anyway. Ethan turned his phone on again, scrolling through to find the messages app, as he had on Friday. Once again, it was something that he didn’t commonly open, and it was kept in one of the various application folders that he could find throughout his phone. The amount of extra storage he had found himself purchasing for his iPhone was almost astronomical. Nevertheless, he found the messages app, opening it, and seeing yet another text from Sean. Ethan tapped on his friend’s contact, taking another eager sip of coffee. The message had been sent almost half an hour ago. 

> **S:** Almost done with shift. You good??

Ethan hummed softly, still feeling partly guilty that he had allowed his friend to worry about him. He assumed the least he could have done was message him back once, even if it was something small. Even if it had nothing to do with the matter at hand. Just something so his friend wouldn’t have to worry about him. He took another sip of coffee, typing carefully with his left hand, which took him slightly longer than expected. Nevertheless, he pressed send.

> **E:** Heading over in a bit

Ethan rested his phone down on the table again, giving a half-smile. He glanced over his right shoulder, his heart lifting heavily as his gaze lingered on Charlotte’s drawing. The young brunette let out a content sigh; as pathetic as it sounded, it had really been the only uplifting part of the weekend. Only the day before, Ethan had hardly even wanted to get out of bed. He had just felt so physically weak, despite himself. His stomach had been churning and he felt so incredibly lightheaded, the ceiling spinning as it had only two days prior, on Friday night. Reluctantly, however, as much as Ethan wanted to believe that simply lying in bed for the rest of the day would be enough to make him feel better…he knew well enough it would only make everything worse. Laying in bed wasn’t exactly causing the problem, but it wasn’t exactly a treatment for stomach pain. Eating was a treatment for stomach pain, an idea that even now the younger man preferred to ignore, although he knew it would solve most of his problems. Even lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a weak glimmer in his eye…he had been so hesitant as to throw the covers off of himself and walk to the kitchen. It had been a scenario that the young brunette had to replay over three times in his head, just to convince himself that eating something was even worth it. 

The young brunette had eventually come to terms with the solution, however. Ethan was eventually able to pull himself out of bed, his heart in his throat the entire time he walked to the kitchen. Once he was there, of course, he contemplated simply turning back and laying down again, attempting to convince the wiser part of him that knew not eating was the cause of all of it. Obviously, he had gone through with eating something. Ethan found that the more he glanced around the kitchen, his attention focusing on something else instead of what was in front of him…the easier it was to swallow. The easier it was to eat something without feeling guilty about what he was doing. The young brunette knew he wasn’t supposed to feel guilty in the first place, but he would take what he could get. He wanted to get better, he really did. Ethan wanted to be able to stomach food easily like most people could, without dreading the numbers that would be on the scale an hour later. He wanted to have a normal eating schedule, instead of just eating when he had to, seemingly the last second. Ethan wanted it to be more than something he considered a requirement…he wanted it to be something seen as routine. 

Ethan got up from the chair again, leaning over slightly as he reached to the fridge. His heart was in his throat as he reluctantly opened the door to the fridge, grabbing at a small container of Greek yogurt, one that was apparently supposed to have protein in it. He supposed it was something small enough that it wouldn’t make him feel too guilty over it…and it had things he needed. Ethan bit his lip, closing the fridge door and resting the small container on the table. The young brunette’s eyes flickered gently with interest when he heard his phone let out a small ding, as it had done repeatedly throughout the weekend. He shifted, tapping on his phone and opening it, giving a small smile when he noticed that Sean had replied to his text. Ethan leaned over to the counter again, pulling open a drawer and grabbing a spoon before returning to his seat. He tapped on the contact, humming softly as he read his message, his eyes crinkling as he smiled, letting out a soft chuckle. 

> **S:** Dude! You’re alive! I seriously thought you died or something

Ethan chuckled softly, giving a slight roll of his eyes. He supposed he had expected as much from his friend, especially considering how he had been plainly ignoring his messages. Another text rolled in.

> **S:** Cool cool. Charlotte hasn’t stopped talking about you, asking if you were coming. I said I didn’t know, cause you haven’t replied yet

Ethan pushed his coffee mug aside, peeling off the top of his yogurt container as he held his phone loosely in his left hand, typing away carefully.

> **E:** I’m alive, lol. Didn’t feel too good this weekend. Better now.

The young brunette hummed underneath his breath, resting his phone down once again. Ethan filled his spoon with a bit of yogurt, hesitantly starting to eat as he stared off at the wall; again, something he did whenever he seemed to be eating. The young man tapped his foot against the kitchen tile gently, a small smile on his face. His heart fluttered happily, feeling excited enough to get to work. Ethan hardly knew why, of course. It would simply be the same thing that he did every day before; watching Charlotte. The only thing that was seemingly special about it was the fact that he was staying later than before. Surely there was nothing special about that? It was just the same thing, but a different time. But Ethan couldn’t stop smiling as he took another bite of yogurt, and he didn’t know why. Just the way his heart fluttered and his stomach churned…in a good way, though. Not in the regular… _sickening_ way it normally did. Ethan ran a hand through his hair as he leaned back in his seat, continuing to gently tap his feet.

Ethan shifted in his seat, taking a final bite of his yogurt before pushing it aside. He was finished with it, in the sense that the small container had been emptied, but just because he didn’t feel like eating anymore. The young brunette supposed he would have to start heading over to the daycare center anyway, considering his shift was coming up soon. Ethan knew well enough that Sean was the type to wait for him if he didn’t show up in time, but he would rather be punctual. He also wanted to see Charlotte, considering he had gone the weekend without not being able to hear her giggle, and without being able to read to her, and without being able to see her dark almond eyes crinkle happily whenever she smiled. Those were the little thing he had appreciated during the week…the things that could get him to smile, despite himself or despite the mood he had previously been in. The young brunette couldn’t be upset whenever he was with the young girl; she made it nearly impossible to walk around frowning whenever she radiated the unexplainably positive energy of hers, something Ethan would never be able to understand. He supposed being a kid made being optimistic easier…although he couldn’t imagine being that optimistic, even if he _was_ younger.

Ethan rested his coffee cup on the kitchen counter, reminding himself that he would get to cleaning it later. He reached for his container of yogurt, reluctantly tossing it into the trash. The young brunette reached for his phone, checking to see if he had any new notifications, which he didn’t, so he slipped his device into his back pocket. Ethan reached for the backpack that sat on the chair beside him, one that had already been pre-packed. As always, it included everything he needed. Most of the coloring books found inside had been scribbled over miscellaneously, none of them fully colored, but enough for no one else to want to touch them. Pages had been ripped at and torn, but the young brunette supposed that he would purchase new ones as soon as the children were _completely_ finished with the ones he had. Among the coloring books was a series of craft scissors and glue; hopefully, the kids at the daycare center could create something of their own…instead of bothering him the entire time. Along with the previously listed items, he had brought along an empty folder, where he would be able to keep any drawings collected throughout the day, just so they wouldn’t become wrinkled in his backpack among the rest of his things. The young brunette slung the backpack over his shoulder, letting out a content sigh before walking to the door of his apartment.

“Shit, keys,” Ethan murmured softly, dropping his backpack by the door before he raced back over toward his bedroom. The young brunette hummed softly, slipping into his bedroom quickly to swiftly grab his keys and leave. Sure enough, they were on the nightstand beside his bed. He reached for them eagerly, almost tripping on one of his shirts. The young man supposed he would have to do some cleaning up as soon as he got home. The young brunette hummed softly, shifting as he heard his phone dinging from his pocket. Ethan held his keys in his left hand, reaching for his phone in his right to check his texts. Sure enough, it was another message from Sean. The young brunette debated opening it, considering he would have to get going anyway, but he supposed whatever information it held could be important. Reluctantly, he clicked on the message feed, reading the text. He smiled softly, his heart fluttering slightly with pure happiness, his eyes crinkling.

> **S:** Charlotte drew you a picture. She couldn’t find brown. Your hair is blue

Ethan giggled softly, looking at the attached image that came with the text. He shifted, studying the drawing. It was similar to the one the young girl had previously made him, but it was slightly different. In addition to him being in the drawing…there was someone else. Ethan chuckled softly when he realized that Charlotte had drawn herself beside him, both of them smiling happily, the word _frends_ on the top of the page, which the young brunette could only assume was supposed to be ‘friends’. That was something he would hopefully be able to take back to his apartment. Nevertheless, he sent a quick smile emoji before slipping his phone away again. He knew well enough that he truly had to get going now. Ethan held his keys in his hand, rushing back to the door, cringing when he realized he had been running throughout the apartment with his sneakers on. Nevertheless, he reached for his backpack as he had before, slinging it over his shoulder. He sucked in a content breath, opening the door to his apartment before entering the hallway, making sure to close the door gently behind him. There always seemed to be complaining that people slammed their doors too loud, and he knew well enough that was his doing. Ethan locked the door behind him, smiling. He pulled away from his apartment, making his way to the stairs. His apartment wasn’t far up, so he found that waiting for the elevator evidently took longer than it did to simply rush down the stairs.

Ethan raced down the stairs happily, a bounce in his step as he went down two flights of stairs. He soon found himself in the lobby of his apartment, smiling to himself before he exited the building. The young man exhaled happily as he was met with the cold air from outside. The November weather was surely something the young man could get used to, the way his lungs filled with crisp, refreshing air with every breath. The way the wind would nip at the edge of his nose and lightly sting his cheeks, moving through his hair as he walked. Sure, he supposed December rolling around the corner would cause him to miss his family, but he had almost the entire month left of November until that occurred. Nothing for him to worry about. He grinned happily as he walked down the sidewalk, exhaling happily and watching as his breath fogged up in front of him, wafting back behind him as he continued walking. Ethan usually wasn’t _happy_ when he was going to work, but he couldn’t help but find his heart being lifted energetically in his chest, something that didn’t seem to happen often.

Sure enough, the young brunette had reached the daycare center. He reached into his back pocket, fishing around for his phone to check the time. 3:58. Ethan smiled softly. Practically just in time. The young brunette leaned on the door to the daycare center, pushing it open and entering the lobby. He let out a sigh of content, smiling softly. It was unlike himself to be as giddy as he was, he supposed, but the young man enjoyed the feeling nevertheless. Rebecca glanced away from her computer, cocking an eyebrow as she noticed the younger man. She knew well enough that it was unlike Ethan. “Someone’s awfully happy,” she scoffed, giving a playful roll of her eyes “Must be because you’re on time…for _once_.” The young man simply shrugged in return, not giving the statement much attention. It was only now that Ethan realized he wasn’t even wearing a jacket, since he found he didn’t have anything to place on the coatrack. “Must have done something special this weekend to get you in a good mood, I presume?”

Ethan thought about it for a few seconds before reluctantly shrugging his shoulders. “No,” he returned simply.

“Why’re you so happy then?” Rebecca questioned, leaning on her elbow with mere interest. “Must’ve been something about your free time this morning, considering Sean took over your shift?” She cocked her head slightly, studying Ethan carefully as he gave a simple shrug of his shoulders. “Well, you’re awful talkative,” she admitted, giving a half-smile as she leaned back in her seat. “It seems as if our roles have _switched_ for the morning, Nestor. That’s some _Freaky Friday_ shit right there.” The young man chuckled, giving a playful roll of his eyes. “Well, I can only hope that you’re in good enough of a mood to remember to _sign in_ ,” the older woman mentioned, tapping carefully on the clipboard with a scarlet pen, shifting in her seat.

“Couldn’t forget if you always remind me,” Ethan returned, humming softly as he walked over to the desk. He reached carefully for the pen, taking it before proceeding to sign his name down on the clipboard. “Did ya miss me?” He asked teasingly.

Rebecca wrinkled her nose. “I wish you weren’t in such a good mood,” she returned dryly. Ethan giggled softly, resting his pen adjacent to the clipboard. “Charlotte has been asking about you for practically the entire day,” the woman mentioned thoughtfully, letting out a soft huff of a laugh as she glanced back to the door of the daycare room. “Sean would let her toddle out occasionally throughout the day to ask me if you were here yet.” Ethan gave a half-smile, a soft chuckle as well. “I just told her that you would be showing up for the next shift; no matter how many times I reminded her, she would always come back out to ask.”

“Well, hopefully, she’s just as excited to see me,” Ethan joked, smiling. 

“The shift is all yours, kiddo,” Rebecca mentioned, gesturing her head back to the door. Ethan gave a small nod, shifting the weight of his backpack from one shoulder to the other before he made his way over to the door. He hummed contently, twisting the knob before he opened it, his eyes crinkling as he smiled happily. The first thing he noticed was Sean kneeling down in front of Charlotte, smiling gently as he wrapped a bandage around her finger. He glanced over his left shoulder, smiling a bit when he noticed Ethan, his eyes flickering contently knowing his friend was alright. The young brunette grinned awkwardly. He supposed after ignoring the Irish man for the weekend, it was the least he could do in return. 

“Look who’s here,” Sean whispered gently to the young girl, wearing a kind smile as he carefully gestured his head toward Ethan. The younger man carefully dropped his backpack by the cubbies, noticing how the young girl glanced over, her eyes lighting up with excitement. Ethan chuckled softly as he noticed her outfit; she looked adorable. Her father had dressed her in daisy white leggings, a matching pearl shirt to go with it, adorned with a frost blue skirt. Of course, the young girl was wearing a familiar set of white shoes, an arctic blue headband placed carefully in her dark hair. Charlotte toddled over to him with excitement, her dark almond eyes flickering with a joyfulness that was enough to melt _anyone’s_ hard, even the iciest of ones.

“Where were you?” Charlotte giggled, looking up at the young man, almost as if Rebecca hadn’t told her repeatedly that he would be there for the next shift. Nevertheless, Ethan crouched down gently, watching as the young girl smiled in return, shifting happily. He opened his mouth to explain where he went, but she cut him off. “I drew you another picture!” The girl exclaimed happily. She carefully looked back toward the crafts table, pointing for a few seconds before fixing her attention back to Ethan. “Your hair is kinda blue. Still no brown.” The young man smiled, his eyes crinkling happily. “Sean said he was gonna buy some brown crayons, though, so then I can draw you another picture with _good_ hair.”

“I’m sure the hair looks lovely, even when it’s blue,” Ethan mentioned gently, giving the young girl a gentle pat on her shoulder, a warm smile to follow. “Do you wanna show it to me? I would love to see it?” The young man remembered well enough what it looked like, considering Sean had sent him a picture, but that wasn’t anything the young girl needed to know. Charlotte nodded eagerly, her eyes lighting up happily as she turned on her heels to go get her paper from the craft table. Ethan watched as Sean stood to his feet, resting his hands on his hips before he carefully walked over to the younger man.

“Sorry for not answering your texts,” Ethan mentioned reluctantly, his voice apologetic as he gave a half shrug of his shoulders, not knowing what else he was supposed to say. “I just…I don’t know, I wasn’t feeling like myself this weekend. I was tired, and everything…hardly wanted to get out of _bed_. Dizzy…the room was constantly spinning. I don’t know what happened, honestly. To make matters worse, of course, I _saw_ your texts. I noticed each of your messages and I heard the soft dings that would follow whenever I received a notification. I could hear it from my bed…and I would _read_ each of your texts. I would acknowledge each of them mentally, always thinking of a way to respond in my head, but I just…I didn’t…I _couldn’t_ respond. Part of me just felt like it was impossible, even though I know well enough _now_ that it wouldn’t have taken any energy. And…God, I can’t say it enough. I’m _so sorry_. I can’t even imagine how much I worried you, considering how I mentioned on Friday…that I wasn’t feeling well. If I were you…well, you said it yourself. I would have thought I was dead.” He gave an awkward, apologetic smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sean returned, his voice genuine as he glanced at Ethan. “I mean, yeah, I was worried and all…but it’s understandable that you didn’t want to respond. If I wasn’t feeling well, I don’t even know if I would have even wanted to _look_ at my phone.” He gave a sympathetic smile, followed by a small shrug of his shoulders, showing that he thought nothing of the matter; like it didn’t bother him. “Besides, you’re alive aren’t you?” Ethan chuckled softly, giving a reluctant nod of his head. “And, I suppose that’s good enough for both of us. Surely good enough for Charlotte.” Ethan grinned, resting his hands gently on his hips.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Ethan returned. “Is Charlotte okay? Did she cut herself?”

“Hm?” Sean questioned, looking up from his feet. He thought for a few seconds before eventually giving a shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, _technically_ , but not with scissors or anything. She got a paper-cut, nothing too bad. _Although_ , I’m convinced she wouldn’t have gotten it if she wasn’t holding the drawing she made you in her hand throughout almost the entire day, showing it to anyone who could get close enough to ask.” Ethan smiled softly. “Nothing that a bandaid couldn’t fix of course. She’s a trooper.” Sean chuckled softly, resting his hands on his hips before giving a justified nod of his head. “Now, believe it or not, I’m going to _attempt_ to convince Becky that I deserve a raise.”

Ethan released a soft huff of laughter. “Good luck with that,” he joked simply, giving his friend a playful pat on the shoulder. “You could be working here for nineteen years and she wouldn’t let _you_ get a raise.” Sean rolled his eyes in return, although he smiled and push past his friend. The young brunette glanced over his shoulder, watching him leave before he fixed his attention back on Charlotte, watching as she rushed back happily with her drawing. Sure enough, it was the one that the Irish man had sent him a picture of; it was better in person, of course. He could get a closer look at the scribbles, and he noticed her fuscia signature, as always. “Well, would you look at that,” the young man mentioned softly, giving a small grin as he crouched down again. “You drew that picture all by yourself?”

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte giggled proudly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she handed Ethan the drawing. The young man smiled gently as he looked down at it. “I was _‘posed_ to get another done, but I got busy.” The brunette let out soft, breathless laughter, his gaze lingering on the drawing. The young girl was simply adorable, that was the only way he could put it. “Do ya like it?”

“Oh, I love it,” Ethan returned happily, a genuine smile on his face as he glanced up from the drawing. “Can I keep it?” Charlotte squealed joyfully, nodding her head enthusiastically in return. It was obvious the young girl appreciated someone liking what she drew. “Well, now the first drawing you made me will have a friend,” the young man mentioned, standing up. “I brought a special folder, which I can put it in later.” The young girl’s eyes lit up happily in return. Charlotte swayed happily, her skirt and arms swaying with her.

“Ooo, guess what?” Charlotte chirped cheerfully, giggling a bit afterward. She continued to sway, looking like she was so _utterly_ eager to choke out what she wanted to tell the young brunette, but she waited for him to guess nevertheless. Ethan simply chuckled softly, giving a playful roll of his eyes as he looked at the younger girl. 

“I’m not very good at guessing games,” Ethan mentioned thoughtfully, giving a half-smile.

“ _Guess_ ,” Charlotte squealed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll guess,” the young man chuckled, pursing his lips in thought as he tried to think of something ridiculous. “The sky turned green?” The younger girl giggled, shaking her head. “Darn, I thought that was it. I could have _sworn_ …well, how about…oh, I don’t know. Did your eyes change colors? I think that’s it. Weren’t they…weren’t they blue before?” Charlotte giggled again, giving that exaggerated shake of her head that most children gave whenever they found something hilariously inaccurate. “Well, I’m afraid you’ll just have to tell me,” Ethan mentioned, giving a simple shrug of his shoulders. “I tried my best, but I just don’t think it’s possible to guess. Too many possibilities.”  
Charlotte smiled. “My daddy is getting outta work early,” she announced happily, her voice littered with a sense of pride as she started swaying happily again. “He’s ‘posta be here any minute. We’re going _ice skating_.” The young girl giggled happily, a sound that seemingly lit up the room. “My daddy’s not really good at it, but that’s okay. He holds onto the railing and watches. I’m _really_ good.” Ethan smiled proudly, giving a small nod of presumed agreement. “We were ‘posta go last week, but my daddy had to cancel cause’a work.” 

“Well, I’m sure your daddy has to work very hard,” Ethan mentioned thoughtfully, giving the young girl an affectionate pat on the shoulder in return. “Don’t you worry, though. I’m sure he’ll be here any second. And, when he is, you can tell him about the drawing you drew me while you’re ice skating with him. And, tomorrow, you can tell me _all about_ how you were the best skater in the rink. How does that sound?” Charlotte nodded eagerly, her eyes lighting up brightly with delight. “Well, I’m glad you’re as excited to tell me as I am,” the young brunette teased, finally standing to his feet. “I’m a pretty good skater too, did you know that?” The young girl shook her head, the same gaze of wonder in her eyes as before. “Oh yeah, really good. I used to be able to do turns and stuff. I don’t know if I can do that anymore, I haven’t done it in a while…but I _used to_.”

“Wow…” Charlotte breathed out. “Like the lympus?”

Ethan chuckled softly, pursing his lips in thought. “Well, _sort of_ like the Olympics,” he mentioned, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. “Not really, though. I’m not as good as _those_ skaters. They’re professionals. They get paid to skate. _I_ don’t get paid to skate. I get paid to watch you and the other children. I’m a professional babysitter, really.” Charlotte giggled softly at the thought. “Yeah, I suppose _professional babysitter_ doesn’t sound all that serious, does it?”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte laughed.

“That’s what I thought too,” the young man mentioned. He gestured his head over to the craft table. “You wanna draw something together until your daddy shows up? We can draw something _for him_ , if you’d like.” The young girl nodded.

“Yeah,” she replied happily.

“Well, that sounds like a plan to me, then,” Ethan mentioned in return, giving a smile. He hummed, carefully resting the drawing Charlotte had made him by his backpack before he lead her over to the craft table. As before, he didn’t feel comfortable enough to sit in one of the chairs, so he simply knelt in front of the table instead, allowing the younger girl to be seated in the chair beside him. “Now, be careful with the paper,” he reminded her, thinking back to how she had gotten a paper cut. “Those paper cuts are something awful, believe me. You wouldn’t want your fingers to be covered in bandages, now would you?” The young girl shook her head seriously, causing Ethan to chuckle softly. “Good. I wouldn't want that either. Unless they were _colorful_ band-aids, then I’m sure I wouldn’t mind as much.” He watched as the young girl reached over for a blank sheet of paper, kicking her legs underneath the table happily as she thought about what she could draw. “Got any ideas, Picasso?”

“I dunno who that is,” Charlotte mentioned. She continued humming. “Maybe…a _heart_.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Ethan replied, smiling. “I’m sure your daddy would love that.” The young girl nodded proudly in return, shifting on her seat so that she was sitting on her knees, reaching over eagerly for the box of crayons. The young man shifted the box closer to her, so she wouldn’t have to lean over as far, and she grabbed a ballet-slipper-pink crayon. “Want me to help you color it in?” He suggested. “So it doesn’t take as long?” Charlotte smiled, nodding.

Ethan hummed happily, reaching over and finding a similar pink. God forbid they have at least _one_ brown crayon among the assortment of various duplicates of crayons, so many of them identical to the last. Nevertheless, he gripped the crayon loosely in his right hand, tapping the end of it gently against the craft table as he watched the younger girl draw a sloppy outline of a heart. The young man thought it was adorable though, really. He knew well enough that her father was going to love it, of course. Parents were like that. Good parents, at least. They appreciated everything their child made for them, even if it looked like they had found it underneath a table. They would speak of it proudly to friends, if they had the chance, and they would put it up on a fridge for encouragement. It was moments like those that would shape a child’s future, Ethan knew that. He was sure Charlotte’s father must have known that too. He watched as she started scribbling in the heart, so he decided to start assisting her, filling in the parts that she missed and repositioning her hand so she didn’t go too far outside the lines. That was something the young man had struggled with himself at a child. In his mind, rules were meant to be broken…lines were meant to be colored out of. Of course, for the sake of the drawing, the young brunette would help the young girl correct herself.

“Ooo, I’m gonna put my name in it,” Charlotte giggled happily. She reached for a black crayon, smiling as she started giving a messy scripted signature inside the heart, her ‘h’ lopsided, and she forgot to include the second ‘t’ in her name, but that was alright because it looked nice nonetheless. “You should put your name in too, so my daddy knows you helped.”

Ethan gave an awkward smile. “I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to put my name in a heart for you to give to your daddy,” the young man chuckled softly. Charlotte gave him a look of confusion before he cleared his throat. “Adults don’t really do that sort of thing,” he explained slowly. 

“Oh,” Charlotte hummed. She shrugged her shoulders before smiling again, seemingly unfazed by the comment. “Okay.” Ethan smiled, giving her a soft pat on the shoulder. 

“What’d’ya wanna do now?” Charlotte questioned.

The young brunette pursed his lips in thought for a few seconds. He _supposed_ he could read her something, although that didn’t seem like the most exciting option…however, he was sure that the young girl didn’t really care _what_ they did. Nevertheless, Ethan pushed the option aside. He thought for a few more seconds, his eyes glancing around the room at things before they settled on the basket of stuffed animals. He opened his mouth to explain how they could form an army of stuffed animals, but before he could get his fever dream of an idea out, he could hear Becky announcing loudly from the lobby that Charlotte’s father was here. “I guess your daddy’s here,” the young man mentioned, smiling softly as Charlotte nodded eagerly. It was obvious that she was almost about to jump out of her skin with excitement. The young brunette couldn’t blame her, of course. Getting pulled out of daycare early was certainly something out of the ordinary for the ebony-haired girl, especially when it meant she would be doing something exciting with her father. “Well, let’s not keep him waiting,” he mentioned, gesturing his head to the drawing. “Don’t forget that drawing you made him. He’s gonna love it.”

“I won’t,” Charlotte giggled, reaching for the drawing before holding it loosely in her left hand. The young brunette turned on his heels, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder as he lead her beside him. “Don’t forget _your_ drawing,” the young girl mentioned thoughtfully in return, gesturing her head to the art piece she had made, which rested carefully beside Ethan’s backpack.

“How could I forget?” Ethan teased gently. “Leaving a priceless work of art at a daycare center for it to be muddled by others? Surely not.” The young girl smiled, leaning on the young man gently and giving a small smile. The young brunette’s heart simply melted in his chest as he carefully opened the door, smiling as Charlotte walked into the lobby, holding her drawing just as proudly as before. Ethan followed slowly behind her, poking his head out as he had once before standing in the doorway. He reluctantly closed the door behind him, smiling a bit when he noticed Mr. Fischbach. _Mark_. The older man wasn’t wearing his suit, as he had been doing the previous time he had picked up his daughter. Instead, the man was wearing a simple pair of jeans, paired thoughtfully with a currant red and charcoal black flannel shirt. He looked…good. Surprisingly. Well, not surprisingly. It wasn’t like the thought of Mark looking nice is something that was seemingly _surprising_ to the younger man…he had just never imagined the young girl’s father wearing anything other than a suit, considering he always seemed to be picking her up as soon as he got out of work. The older man must have found then time to go home and get changed for the occasion. 

“There’s my lovely girl,” Mark chuckled, crouching down carefully as his daughter rushed over to him, wrapping him in a hug. Ethan couldn’t help but giggle softly as he watched from the doorway, his arms folded loosely over his chest. “You excited to go ice-skating?”

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte returned happily. 

“That’s what I thought,” the older man mentioned, wearing a soft smile. Ethan glanced carefully over to Sean, who was still standing at the front counter. Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the sight. It wasn’t every day he saw the Irish man continuously bantering to Rebecca how he deserved a raise; surely not for that long at least. Reluctantly, however, his gaze stopped lingering as soon as he noticed Mark looking up at him from the corner of his eye, eventually standing to his feet. “Oh, nice to see you again, Ethan,” he mentioned, giving a small smile. Ethan smiled in return, giving a small nod. “Such a coincidence, really. I was supposed to be here earlier. You must have ended your shift a few minutes ago, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, I was wondering, and not to say that I thought about this in advance, because I haven’t. Would you like to go ice-skating with us? I know it sounds ridiculous, you barely know me. But you know my daughter, and all…I just thought it would be a nice way for me to get to know the person who my daughter talks about _relentlessly._ ”

“Oh,” Ethan replied, giving an awkward smile as he cleared his throat. “I can’t. I mean, thank you so much for the offer of course…but I recently switched shifts and all with Sean.” He gestured his head over to the Irish man, who glanced from Mark, to Ethan, and then back to Mark. “You see, I just _started_ my shift. I just found that the hours worked easier for me, and all. I would love to go with you and all; I suppose it would be nice to get to know the man who your _daughter_ talks about quite frequently.” He bit his lip, giving a simple shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe next time?” He suggested.

“Don’t give me hope that there would _be_ another time I would be able to get let out of work early,” Mark joked, chuckling softly as he rested his hands on his hips. The young man simply nodded in return, giving a thick swallow as he stood there awkwardly. “Well, that’s a shame.”

“I can cover your shift for you, dude,” Sean cut in sharply, glancing over at his friend. Ethan looked back at him, cocking an eyebrow slightly from the gesture. “I mean, it’s the least I can do, considering you covered my shift for me on Friday. Besides, I guess I’m hanging around here anyway until ol’ Becky decides to give me a raise.” Rebecca glared at the Irish man viciously. “It’s no biggie, either. Just think of it as returning a favor. After all, you deserve to have some free time.” Ethan smiled awkwardly, giving a small nod as he glanced over back at Mark, almost as if he expected the older man to change his mind.

“Well, that’s wonderful then,” Mark mentioned. Ethan smiled.

Wonderful, indeed, he supposed.

After all…it had been a while since the young man had gone ice skating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for over 100 Kudos and over 1000 Hits. It really does mean a lot to me to be able to wake up with rising numbers, and to be able to read such wonderful comments. The next chapter is something I've had plotted out since the beginning, so *hopefully* it will be exciting to write. What do you guys think Mark's plan is from the last chapter?
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated.
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply


	8. You Decided To Join

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I'm back, and I made sure to make this chapter have an above-average word count. I skipped two days to get some rest, but hopefully I'll get back into the swing of things. It's time to move this plot along, after all. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Ethan shifted the weight of his backpack from one shoulder to the other, glancing around as he walked, although he would occasionally glance back at Mark. It was slightly awkward, he couldn’t really deny that, but he supposed everything would clear up as soon as they arrived at Rockefeller Center. Nevertheless, he continued walking, his attention shifting to the skyscrapers seemingly surrounding the streets, one after the other as they towered into the sky, extravagant monoliths of concrete and grass that were snake into the air; a steel metropolis filled with a jungle of tall buildings. That was always something that had amazed Ethan when he moved to the city: how truly _large_ the buildings could be. He has always seen what the city had been like in movies, and part of him had always dreamed of making a connection with it. The young brunette _loved_ New York City, of course, but part of it was unlike anything he had seen in the movies, and not always in the best of ways. In the movies, New York City was a place where dreams could come true, and people could fall in love just by bumping into someone…and people were getting promotions left and right, soaring up in the industry like a bird without clipped wings. God, how he had fawned over those films.

Sure, he knew well enough that having industry in New York City was helpful enough on its own, considering the access to other businesses. And, yeah, he supposed that there always seemed to be more opportunities in the city than there were in the middle of nowhere, but it hadn’t taken the young brunette that long to realize that the opportunities that were _supposed_ to come to the city only seemed to be offered to those who were already wealthy enough on their own. Ethan himself would never be able to receive those opportunities, something else he had learned early on. The top of the skyscrapers was seemingly reserved for people who had already been born into success. The easier jobs, the management situations…and of course, the people who worked underneath them, doing the dirty work, were always down below. At least, that was always when the young brunette was reminded of whenever he looked at a skyscraper. The beauty came first, he supposed, but there was always something more behind everything that caught someone's eye. Something deeper.

Ethan's stay in the city for the most part, however, had been seemingly enjoyable. He supposed that the whole college thing hadn’t quite worked out for him, considering he had been kicked out almost promptly, but apart from that…everything was running smoothly. His paycheck wasn’t what he would prefer it to be at, and he supposed working at a daycare center wasn’t the most _prestigious_ of occupations…but it worked. It was enough to pay his rent, and it was enough to afford other things, he supposed. Of course, there was always the mentality of everything. He was sure there weren’t many people in the world who _strived_ to have the job he had. He wasn’t even sure if working at a daycare center was anything to be proud of, after all. Sure, Ethan was able to sleep in during the mornings now, considering his switched shift, and he supposed that his responsibilities were nothing more than reading books, coloring pictures, and keeping kids out of trouble. It was sort of being a glorified stay at home mom, he supposed, apart from the fact that he got paid. Getting to see Charlotte on almost a daily basis was helpful as well, of course. She really was quite the adorable girl; by far Ethan’s favorite out of the other children. Not that he _liked_ picking favorites, but he just couldn’t help it.

The young brunette shifted his attention away from the buildings when he felt the young girl gently grab his hand, her own barely being able to wrap around his fingers. Ethan glanced down at her, giving a smile as she looked up at him, giggling softly; his eyes crinkled contently as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Whatcha doin, Charlotte?” He chuckled softly.

“Walkin’,” Charlotte chirped in return, giggling softly as she squeezed his hand in return. The young brunette smiled down at the girl, an affectionate gaze in his eye before he refocused his attention on the sidewalk ahead. “I’m real ‘cited,” she continued thoughtfully, her voice littered with pure childlike happiness as she spoke, that same enthusiasm as always. Ethan simply chuckled, as he always did, shifting the weight of his backpack to his right shoulder. “After we go skatin, my daddy said he was gonna let me pick out _three_ books to read. Usually, he only reads one cause he’s super tired, but he’s not tired cause he got let out early.” Ethan smiled softly, glancing at Mark out of the corner of his eye. He noticed the older male smiling down at his daughter gently, an amused expression plastered on his face from his daughter’s enthusiastic comment about something so simple as reading picture books to her at night. Nevertheless, the young man couldn’t help but put his own two bits into the situation.

“Well,” Ethan mentioned gently, pursing his lips softly as he thought, his voice trailing off thoughtfully. “I’m sure your daddy would be awfully surprised to know that _although_ I _suppose_ three books is a lot, I’m not saying it’s not…but I’m positive that I read you _four_ books one time. Not like it’s a competition or anything, I’m sure it’s not. At least, I have no _intention_ of making it a competition. Just thought you would know, so you don’t set your standards too low.” He chuckled softly, glancing out of the corner of his eye again and noticing how the older man was rolling his eyes playfully. “Why don’t you tell your daddy that,” Ethan continued, humming softly. “But make sure to tell him I don’t think it’s a competition.”

“Charlotte,” Mark mentioned gently, humming softly as he glanced at his daughter. “Why don’t we pick out five books tonight?” Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter, smiling a bit. Well, at least that was a nice way to break the awkward tension that had been hanging heavily through the air for what seemed to be the entire walk. It wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to talk…he just didn’t know what he was supposed to talk about, considering he had hardly ever _spoken_ to Mark before, apart from when he had first been introduced to him. The young brunette knew well enough that attempting to start a conversation with someone while walking somewhere, in _addition_ to the fact that he hardly knew the other person…it hardly made sense. However, this felt like a way where he could… _talk_ to Mark, without even exactly talking to him at all. “I mean, it’s not a competition after all,” the older man continued…but it almost didn’t seem like he was speaking to Charlotte. It _seemed_ like he was speaking to Ethan directly, although he didn’t mention it. “Although I’m _sure_ I could read more books than your _babysitter_ if I wanted to.”

Ethan gave a playful roll of his eyes, focusing his attention on the sidewalk ahead of him as he walked beside Charlotte, who stood between him and her father. Charlotte squeezed his hand happily again, her hair bouncing slightly as she walked, a slight jump in each of her steps. She was absolutely precious, that was all the young brunette could think. It was obvious her father realized and believed the same, for his eyes were filled with pure affection, loving attention, and pride as he looked down at her gentle, his eyes crinkling as he gave a sincerely kindhearted smile. Ethan had once or twice felt like he was supposed to be pitying the young girl, considering her position with a lack of a mother…but being able to see the close relationship she had with her father was more than enough for him to realize that the amount of love she received hadn’t faltered with the loss of her mother. If anything, it must have only grown. The young man grinned happily.

“Maybe I could read _six_ books to you tomorrow,” Ethan mentioned jokingly, giving that shit-eating grin of his, but he didn’t exactly mind. After all, he just listened as the young girl giggled in return.

“Don’t push it, Ethan,” Mark mentioned. “I’m not reading my daughter seven books just so I can one-up you.” The young man couldn’t help but chuckle softly in return, grinning softly to himself as he shyly glanced down at his feet.

“I couldn’t read six books even if I _tried_ ,” Ethan assured the older man, giving a half-grin. He wasn’t going to get into his lack of attention-span, or anything, this didn’t really seem like the place for him to be pouring out everything seemingly ‘wrong’ with him. So, instead, he played the comment off as a joke, something that Mark could heartily chuckle at in return. “Besides, I’ve heard that you’re the _best_ storyteller ever, and that you even make up funny voices for the characters. So I’ve been told, at least. I dunno.” He gave a half-grin, noticing how the older man glanced down at his daughter,

“Guilty as charged, I suppose,” Mark returned simply, a shrug of his shoulders following. “My dragon interpretation is what I’m known for most, I suppose. Inspirational, really.” Ethan tossed his head back slightly, letting out soft laughter. It was a comforting feeling, really…allowing himself to become more comfortable around someone else, especially considering they had already been walking for a few minutes. At first, what had seemed awkward was… _familiar_. In a way, Ethan supposed. Mark really reminded him of Charlotte; like father like daughter. He could only assume that being brought up by someone so genuinely kindhearted was what had helped. “Of course, I’ve been told that you’re the best at taking your _time_ with stories. You apparently don’t go to fast, and you let her have a minute to look at the pictures. Believe me, I would do that too, if it weren’t for the fact that she requests so many books.” Charlotte giggled softly. “As much as I would _love_ to spend half an hour a night reading to her, I suppose both of us need sleep.”

“Well, lucky for me, I have all the time in the world during my shifts,” Ethan mentioned thoughtfully. He glanced down at Charlotte, noticing how she continued to hold his hand. Slowly, she reached over to her father’s right hand with her left, watching as she smiled and took it gently. The young girl grinned happily, holding each of their hands as she continued walking happily. “Aw,” the young brunette mentioned softly, only because he just couldn’t help it. He glanced at her father gently, noticing how he wore an almost identical smile, his eyes crinkling as they filled with pride. 

“Whatcha doin, honey?” Mark asked gently.

“I dunno,” Charlotte giggled. She pulled closer to Mark, Ethan stumbling over with her. He couldn’t help but laugh softly, the three of them walking together. Ethan glanced at Mark, giving an amused grin before glancing down at Charlotte. 

“I guess she wants you and me to be friends,” Ethan joked.

“Friends? Us?” Mark scoffed playfully. “Never.”

Ethan gave a half-grin, rolling his eyes before focusing his attention forward again. He hummed contently. Being friends would be nice, he supposed. _Really nice_. Although, they were only on a first-name basis, so Ethan wasn’t going to be questioning or asking too much from the older man. “Of course not,” he replied jokingly, shoving his left hand in his pocket and continuing to hold Charlotte’s in his left. “Sounds like a nightmare, honestly.” He smiled softly, pursing his lips as if he was trying to prevent himself from grinning. Mark laughed softly, giving a simple roll of his eyes as they continued walking. Eventually, the older man started whistling, Charlotte giggling happily as he did. The young girl looked up at her father with mere amazement. Ethan smiled gently; she was simply adorable. He gave Mark a look, glancing down at Charlotte to signify.

“She’s so cute,” Ethan mouthed, giving a watery smile.

Mark chuckled softly. “I remind myself the same thing every morning,” he admitted, glancing down at his daughter and watched as she tilted her head from side to side, as if she was moving it to the rhythm of music that wasn’t present. “I mean, I’m sure you know it more than I do. You see her more every day than I do, currently. I suppose you get to watch her draw, and such…you get to have enough time in the day to read to her.” Ethan gave a simple shrug of his shoulders, as if he was to push aside everything the older man was saying. “I’m serious,” Mark chuckled. “I see her at breakfast and dinner. You see her in between, I suppose. Everyone at the daycare center, at least.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter,” Ethan mentioned thoughtfully. “Because, I can assure you, the only thing she talks about when she’s here is _you_. How you make her laugh, and how you make her smile, and how you make her feel better when she’s upset.” He gave another shrug. “You should have seen how excited she was to go ice skating with you…she was so glad that you would be getting out early and everything. Believe me, I’ve never seen her more excited in her entire life. Not even when you put a cookie in her lunch; believe me, you could have sworn someone had handed her a hundred dollars.” Mark chuckled softly, glancing down at Charlotte with a sweet expression. “Believe me, sir, I think we all know well enough that Charlotte appreciates you. You’re her father after all?”

“ _Sir_?” Mark scoffed, laughing softly.

“Mr. Fischbach?” Ethan suggested.

“ _Mark_ ,” the older man returned. “No need to make me feel older than I am.” The young man chuckled softly, giving a simple shrug of his shoulders. Charlotte hummed softly as she glanced around, turning her head slightly over her shoulder to see where they were.

“Daddy?” Charlotte chirped, glancing up at her father as she cocked her head slightly. The young girl used her lips, looking around again as she continued to hold both Mark and Ethan’s hand. “Are we almost there?” Ethan smiled softly, noticing how it was a question that was most commonly asked among children. She didn’t seem to ask to with impatience, however; it seemed to be out of pure curiosity. The young brunette wasn’t quite surprised by that fact, of course, especially considering how different Charlotte seemed to be from the other children in general.

“Mhm,” Mark hummed gently in return. “Almost.”

“Yay,” Charlotte whispered softly. Ethan giggled softly, feeling as the young girl squeezed his hand gently with excitement. Ethan grinned, squeezing her hand in return and watching as her dark almond eyes lit up happily. 

“Are you any good at ice-skating, Ethan?” The older man questioned, glancing over his right shoulder at the young brunette. Ethan thought about it for a few seconds. He supposed it had actually been a while since he had _gone_ ice-skating…he was sure that being away from it wouldn’t improve his skill, that was for sure. “Or, are you the type to just, I dunno _watch_? Because believe me, I’m perfectly fine with watching, too.” Ethan glanced at the older man, not understanding.

“I’m plenty good at ice-skating,” Ethan insisted proudly. “You?” He could remember Charlotte telling him how her father wasn’t any good at it. Of course, he wouldn’t mention that to the older man, instead asking him politely as if he was truly curious to know. Mark grinned.

“ _Perfect_ at it.”

“Well, that’s good,” Ethan hummed simply. He walked in silence for the rest of the way there, still finding that it was awkward to even bring up conversation. The young brunette knew well enough that he _himself_ was the only one who considered the lingering silence almost embarrassing, but he could help but imagine that both of them felt the same. Hopefully, that would change when they got there, of course. Surely it would, because it would be a different environment. Charlotte would be joyful as all hell, Ethan knew that well enough…Mark would be happy just because he got to watch his daughter be excited, something that every parent dreamed of despite themselves…and Ethan supposed he himself would be happy as well, all because he got to be ice-skating instead of actually working. Not like working was tiresome, of course, because it wasn’t; taking the day off didn’t exactly hurt him, though. And, as Mark had mentioned previously, they were there soon enough, and Ethan couldn’t help but ask himself _why_ he hadn’t done this more often. After all, he had had the earlier shift…the evenings could have been spent with ice-skating and touring through the city, instead of simply moping around his apartment like a widower who didn’t know what to do with himself. Charlotte’s eyes lit up happily as they drew nearer. The young brunette glanced at Mark, noticing his weary expression. “Good thing you’re a perfect ice-skater,” the young man mentioned, that same shit-eating grin that he had worn before as he squeezed Charlotte’s hand. Mark spared him a simple glance, grinning awkwardly. Ethan couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Wow…” Ethan found himself breathing out gently, the words being taken right froths throat as he stood at the top of the coarse, graphite shaded granite steps, overlooking the ice skating rink. They weren’t the only ones there, obviously, but there weren’t many people skating. After all, work hadn't exactly let out for everyone who was fortunate enough. The young man’s attention lingered on the honey and marigold colored statue that was positioned thoughtfully between a series of…what were they, sprinklers? Ethan was mesmerized nevertheless, sucking in a short breath as he just stood there, feeling the young girl let go of his hand as she eagerly walked down the steps. The young brunette didn’t follow though, despite his interest in going skating…he just stood there, taking everything in. The young man knew well enough that he had passed by the rink several times during his stay in New York City, but he had never actually considered getting up _close_. It was just never something he had been interested in. However, just being able to stop and take everything in…it was wonderful. Being able to stand at the top of the steps, not a care in the world as he just looked down at an ice-rink, with a statue that just made it feel _expensive_. It was wonderful. He could feel the presence of the older man at his side, obviously intrigued by Ethan’s sudden curiosity. “I guess I’ve really got to start exploring the city more often,” Ethan admitted aloud, glancing over at Mark and noticing how his attention too was fixed on the statue.

“You’re acting like I haven’t been tied down to a job, and that I just get to travel through the city like this every afternoon,” Mark joked, finally gesturing his head for the young man to follow as he started walking down the steps after his daughter. Ethan trailed behind him, glancing around thoughtfully and noticing every little detail. “Believe me, Ethan, I’m sure you get out of the house more often than I do.”

“You’d be surprised, sir,” Ethan returned, chuckling softly.

Mark glanced back over his shoulder at the young man. “ _Mark_ ,” he reminded the young brunette, smiling a bit when Ethan’s eyes widened in realization, followed with an eager nod of his head, frantically reassuring him it wouldn’t happen again.

“Right,” the young brunette reminded himself, giving another justified nod. “Mark,” he repeated. Ethan gave a half-grin, wondering what he was supposed to do with his backpack as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, _Mark_ ,” he continued softly, a full smile forming on his face as he gestured his head back to the backpack on his shoulders, “do they have a place here where I can keep my backpack? As much as I would just love to lay it around anywhere, this is New York City. It would be stolen the second I dropped it down, and I think we both know that.” Mark chuckled softly.

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” he mentioned thoughtfully. Ethan nodded in return, continuing to trail behind the older man, who finally caught up to his daughter, gently reminding her that she wasn’t supposed to walk too far ahead of him. The young brunette couldn’t help but smile as Charlotte nodded her head in return, obviously understanding. They had reached the bottom of the steps, now level with the ice rink. They had to, of course, go rent their skates, as well as pay general admission. The young brunette kept close to Mark’s side, glancing around and noticing the few other people that were around them; not many, of course, but they were there regardless. Charlotte reached up to hold her father’s hand, smiling softly. Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing at Mark as he watched him stand near the counter to purchase tickets.

“Um, how much for admission of two adults and one child?” Mark questioned, humming softly.

“$65,” the woman behind the counter replied. Ethan’s eyes widened slightly as he went to reach for his wallet. There wasn’t any way he was going to allow Mark to pay for him, considering he had already been polite enough to invite him ice skating. Reluctantly, the young brunette shifted his hand through the side pouch of his backpack, attempting to find his wallet. However, he couldn’t find it. It wasn’t there. After all, why would the young man have needed to bring his wallet to work, considering he would have had no need for it. Surely Ethan wouldn’t have to be buying things at work on a daily basis, so he didn’t have any intention of bringing something so unnecessary with him. Nevertheless, the young man continued fishing his hand around for a few more seconds, almost as if he expected to find something as he stood there awkwardly. Having to admit to not having his wallet seemed almost foolish. 

“Ethan, you don’t have to pay,” Mark chuckled softly, giving the young man a sympathetic look when he realized the brunette was having trouble procuring a wallet. The young man simply shook his head, to which the older man gently grabbed his wrist. “Really,” he insisted, giving a reassuring smile. “I’ve got it.”

Ethan glanced over his right shoulder at Mark. “I forgot it at home,” he admitted, giving an awkward smile. The older man gave a playful roll of his eyes. “Give me _one_ good reason I would have needed to bring my wallet to work,” he mentioned, although he smiled.

“To pay for ice-skating admission,” Mark replied simply. “Duh.” Ethan smiled shyly, zipping the pouch of his backpack again, since there was obviously nothing useful. He watched as Mark fished through his front pocket, retrieving his wallet with ease, which the young brunette was still somewhat guilty about. He supposed he would have to start bringing his wallet to work, even though he was, sure enough, all of this was a one-time occasion. Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watched Mark simply pull out a few bills. God, he felt… _weird_ just watching. He was a grown adult, after all, surely he should be paying for his own things. Nevertheless, he kept his mouth shut. “Is there any way you could hold onto a backpack for us?” Mark questioned, gesturing his head back to Ethan. “Just so it doesn’t get stolen, you know?” Ethan stood there awkwardly, giving the older man a half-smile of appreciation, considering he would have forgotten to ask.

“Mhm,” the woman hummed gently. “We can keep it back here.”

“That’s great, thank you,” Mark returned. He glanced at Ethan, smiling. “Toldja.”

“I never doubted you,” Ethan replied simply, smiling as he slipped his backpack off his shoulders. He hesitantly handed it to Mark, who just chuckled softly.

“It’s awfully light,” he mentioned. 

“Not much in there,” Ethan admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Coloring books…crayons? I guess there’s some other stuff, but everything _in there_ is generally light as well. Half of the things in there never see the light of day, of course, but I suppose one of these days someone will find a use for them.” Mark chuckled softly, nodding in return as he passed the young man’s backpack to the other side. “I’ll pay you back, you know,” the young brunette continued reassuringly, not wanting the older man to think he was just going to allow him to cover everything. After all, that just wouldn’t be polite; expecting someone to pay for something was always a pet peeve that Ethan had, and he surely wasn’t going to drop it just because _he_ was in the position of being paid for. “Tomorrow…I’ll bring my wallet. How much was it for one adult?”

“ _Or_ , you can just let me pay,” Mark returned thoughtfully, pursing his lips as if he was thinking. “That seems like a good plan, wouldn’t you say?”

“We still need to pay for skate rentals,” Ethan mentioned softly, the three of them pulling away from the counter now that they had paid admission. “Those aren’t exactly _free_ , sir. I _have_ the money to pay you back…I just don’t have it with me.” 

“Well, for starters, Ethan, consider it a gift for keeping my daughter happy during the day,” Mark mentioned, gesturing his head for Ethan to follow him. The young brunette trailed behind the older man, humming softly as he listened. “Charlotte’s hated practically every daycare I’ve dropped her off at, and I knew well enough that she didn’t like the daycare she’s _currently_ at…until three months ago. When you showed up. From then on, all she could talk about was how you were her favorite. Dropping her off was more bearable because I knew she appreciated it more; it was worth the price because Charlotte was happy.” Ethan gave a half-grin as he glanced down to Charlotte, who simply smiled contently in return. “And _finally_ , Ethan…I have a name. It’s Mark.” The young brunette nodded again, letting out a soft sigh when he remembered. “I’m gonna have to start calling you _kid_ if you can’t remember my name.” Mark chuckled softly.

“I’ll remember next time,” Ethan insisted.

“Sure you will, kid,” Mark joked. The young brunette rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh, I’m _kidding_.” He hummed softly, gently letting go of his daughter’s head. “Honey, you’re gonna go sit with Ethan while daddy rents the ice-skates, okay?”

“Okay,” Charlotte returned, smiling happily. The young girl was quick to shift over to Ethan, gently reaching up to grasp the young brunette’s hand. Ethan smiled softly, leading Charlotte over to the series of benches, watching out of the corner of his eye as Mark walked to a separate counter to rent skates. The young man could hardly understand why Mark was being so incredibly _nic_ e to him. Sure, he supposed it could be in his nature, but the two of them had just met. Ethan liked to _assume_ it was just out of good nature, of course. Nevertheless, he sat beside Charlotte on the navy blue benches, his knee bouncing steadily as he glanced at the young girl out of the corner of his eye, noticing how she kicked her legs happily. The young brunette couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. “Are you ‘cited?” Charlotte chirped cheerfully, glancing up at Ethan with a grin on her face. The young man chuckled softly, giving a small nod of his head. “Me too,” she mentioned thoughtfully, humming softly as she watched her father at the counter. Ethan glanced at him, giving a half-smile.  
“Are you and my daddy gonna be friends?” Charlotte asked hopefully, her voice eager as her gaze lingered on Mark. Ethan couldn’t help but smile from the question.

“I’m sure your daddy and I will be friends, yeah,” Ethan returned.

“Best friends?”

Ethan chuckled softly. “Well, maybe,” he mentioned, running his hand through his hair as he gave a grin. “You can’t rush being best friends, though. That takes time. I would have to hang out with your daddy a lot, and something tells me that I might not have the time for that. After all, he’s very busy with work. You know that.” Charlotte gave a small nod of her head, a hum of acknowledgment. “We can be friends though, I promise.” The young girl smiled a bit, leaning her head gently against Ethan’s forearm, humming happily underneath her breath as she waited for her father. Ethan turned his direction from the younger girl over to Mark, attempting to stifle his laughter as he watched the older man attempting to carry the series of skates in his arms, trying to keep them from tumbling out of his grasp. The young man reluctantly stood up from his seat, walking over to help the older man.

Ethan took a pair of skates from Mark, the smaller pair for Charlotte. Mark gave a half-smile. “Thanks,” he mentioned lightly. “I could have gotten it, though. Really.” 

“Sure you could have,” Ethan joked, giving a half-grin as he pulled away from the older man. Mark smiled a bit, the younger man turning on his heels as he returned to the benches, smiling softly as Charlotte’s eyes widened with excitement as she shifted, starting to take off her own shoes. “Do you need me to help you with the ice-skates?” The young brunette questioned gently. “Or do you think you can do it on your own?” The young girl shifted, thinking a bit as she un-velcroed her shoes. She looked at the laces of the ice-skates before slowly shaking her head.

“Need help,” Charlotte mentioned.

“Alright then,” Ethan returned, smiling softly. He glanced out of the corner of his eye as the older man sat beside his daughter, shifting as he reached for his own ice-skates. The young brunette gently moved Charlotte’s shoes aside, reaching for her ice-skates. “So, you know how to ice skate without holding onto the railing?” He questioned with curiosity, cocking his eyebrow gently as he helped Charlotte put her ice-skates on. The young girl shifted, nodding proudly in return. “Wow,” he mentioned softly. “That’s really cool. I know a lot of adults who don’t know how to do it without using the railing.” He glanced at Mark out of the corner of his eye, the older man’s eyes flickering. The young brunette quickly returned his gaze to Charlotte, helping her tie the laces. “Do you know how to tie your shoes?”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte returned softly. “My daddy does though. He’s pretty good at it.”

Ethan chuckled softly. “I’m sure he is,” he mentioned softly. The young brunette gave a small grin as he finished tying the girl’s laces. “There we go, all done.” Charlotte giggled happily, giving a small kick of her legs as she admired the aegean blue ice-skates, the porcelain white laces adorning them, the silver blade of the ice skate underneath. He hummed softly, shifting to reach for his own pair of ice-skates. He checked the tag inside them, hoping that the older man had gotten his size correct. They were half a size too big, but he supposed that it didn’t matter. Ethan sat down gently beside Mark, humming softly as he started untying his sneakers. Mark had already finished with his ice-skates, grinning as he stood up, balancing on the blades, which was somewhat easy considering the ground was a foam-like material. “So, when’s the last time you’ve been ice-skating, s-Mark?”

Mark smiled. “I dunno, two months ago?” He suggested, giving a simple shrug of his shoulders as he turned to help his daughter to her feet. He chuckled softly as she attempted to find her balance, the older man placing his hands gently on her shoulders to steady her. “Obviously I’ll be a little rusty, of course. As most good ice-skaters are when they return to the ice.” Ethan gave a simple roll of his eyes, smiling a bit as he finished lacing up his skates. “What, you don’t believe me?” The older man joked.

“No, not really,” Ethan returned, a shit-eating grin visible on his face as he looked up at the older man. The young brunette rested his shoes aside, carefully hoisting himself up to his feet as he pushed up against the bench. The young man found his balance, reaching forward and grabbing onto Mark’s shoulders to steady himself. Ethan gave an awkward grin, quickly letting go of his shoulders as soon as he found himself finding balance. “Sorry,” he mentioned thoughtfully, clearing his throat as he heard Charlotte giggle softly. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So…do we go skating now?” The young brunette questioned.

“Mhm,” Mark mentioned, clearing his throat as he gestured his head to the rink. “Uh, lead the way.” The young man smiled, giving a simple nod of his head as he glanced down to Charlotte, who was already grinning with excitement. Ethan carefully took a step forward, which was considerably harder to do since he was wearing ice-skates, but he supposed the feeling was manageable. He hummed softly underneath his breath, making his way to the edge of the ice rink, not yet stepping onto the ice. Ethan clutched the railings on either side of the gap, which allowed entrance, and he sucked in a small breath before he slid himself carefully onto the ice, holding his breath in his chest for a few seconds as he focused on not tumbling over. That was the last thing Ethan wanted to do in the presence of the older man. Just the thought of falling over was embarrassing on its own. Nevertheless, the young brunette held himself up, smiling confidently when he remembered how easy the feeling was to get used to. It was nice, even. _Carefree_. At least, that was how Ethan thought about it. The young man couldn’t help but grin as he glanced back over his shoulder, noticing Mark gently nudging Charlotte onto the ice, holding himself back for a reason that Ethan could only assume was his lack of balance.

Ethan turned carefully on his skates, admiring the comforting sound of the blades scraping against the ice. Not like nails on a chalkboard, no. It was softer. _Smoother_. The young man enjoyed the sound as he skated back over to the entrance, leaning on the railing as he watched Charlotte grin happily, using the edge of the rink to push herself forward. Adorable, really. Ethan watched her, almost proudly, before he fixed his attention back on Mark, who still hadn’t entered the rink. “That’s alright, take your time,” the young brunette joked, receiving nothing but a sardonic look in return. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he skated backward an inch or two, giving the older man a bit more room. “Wouldn’t wanna get shown up by your own daughter, would you, Mark?” The man gave a half-grin, a soft huff of laughter escaping his lips as he gripped the railing tightly. Mark sucked in a soft breath, holding it in his lungs as he pushed himself onto the ice, clinging to the railing as he did so, simply pulling himself aside instead of entering the center go the rink.

“You have to actually let go of the _rail_ to ice-skate,” Ethan mentioned, resting his hands on his hips as he looked at the older man, who rolled his eyes playfully in return. The young brunette watched carefully as Mark released the rail, _attempting_ to skate into the center, but only managing to stumble forward. He gripped the rail again, slumping down slightly and forcing himself to his feet. “Huh, your daughter was right,” Ethan joked. “You’re _bad_ at this.”

“Oh, shut up,” Mark returned, laughing softly as he managed to pull himself to his feet, his grip tight on the rail so that he wouldn’t sink down again. “Believe me, when I _invited you_ I didn’t think I would be ice-skating.”

Ethan raised his eyebrow slightly, skating carefully to the edge of the rink and leaning against it, glancing at Mark. “What’d’you mean?” He questioned softly, cocking his head to the side carefully as he looked at the older man. Mark slipped down again, falling back onto his hands. Ethan attempted to stifle his laughter. “You okay?”

“Just… _peachy_ ,” Mark uttered, giving a half-grin as he pushed a hand through his hair.

“Need help?”

“No, no, I’ve got it,” the older man insisted. He scooted himself over to the edge of the rink again, shifting so that he could reach up and grip the railing. Ethan glanced over his left shoulder, smiling as he watched Charlotte continuing to skate around the rink. “What I _mean_ ,” he continued, holding himself up and glancing over at Ethan, “is that I _planned_ on inviting you…before I got to the daycare center.”

Ethan gave a half-smile. “And why’s that?”

“Well, before I _explain_ ,” Mark mentioned, clearing his throat, “I would like to mention that I had expected both of us to just _watch_ Charlotte skate…so I wouldn’t have to embarrass myself and all.” The young man chuckled softly, resting his hands on his hips as he watched the older man shift. “If it hasn’t become apparent to you, Charlotte spends the large majority of her morning, afternoon, evening, and even part of the night at the daycare center. As much as I know she’s getting taken care of, especially by you…I don’t like the thought of her being away from the house for so long. You know? I don’t want her to have to become accustomed to somewhere that’s not _home_. I want her to spend more time at the apartment, but that’s nearly impossible for me, especially considering how many hours I work during the day. The fact that I was granted the ability to leave early is quite frankly a _miracle_. The daycare center prices aren’t exactly… _cheap_ , either. They’re hefty. Not the most expensive in the area, but you know, it cuts out of my paycheck if I’m paying hourly.” Ethan nodded in understanding, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he listened attentively.

“You know you’re her favorite, right?” Mark asked, giving a half-grin. “Out of everyone at the daycare center, she likes you the most.”

“So I’ve been told,” Ethan admitted sheepishly.

“Well, it’s come to my attention that I need to keep Charlotte at the house,” Mark returned. “As I said, it’s not good for her to be at the daycare center for so long…however, when I asked her if staying at home was something she was interested in, she insisted that she wanted to stay at the daycare. Charlotte wants to stay there because _you_ work there.” Ethan gave the older man an apologetic glance. “Not that it’s your fault, of course, you’ve made the last three months extremely enjoyable for her.”

“What are you suggesting?” Ethan questioned.

“Well…I was _hoping_ ,” Mark admitted, his voice trailing off thoughtfully as he started to attempt his thoughts, “that maybe you would be interested in…quitting your job at the daycare center.” Ethan cocked his eyebrow gently. “Not that you’ll be unemployed, of course,” the man continued quickly. “I was actually _wondering_ …if you wanted to babysit Charlotte back at my apartment. Like a…a personal babysitter, I suppose?”

“A nanny,” Ethan hummed.

“Yeah, that’s the word,” Mark replied, smiling softly. “Except, you don’t stay over or anything. Not that I hate the thought of you staying over, I have a pull-out couch, but I’m not exactly… _comfortable_ with that thought, you know?” Ethan nodded in understanding. “I could pay you, um, sixteen dollars an hour? Is that something you would be interested in? Anything that’s less than what I’m paying at the daycare center would be really wonderful. Working overtime isn’t really something I _appreciate_ , if you understand. I mean, you don’t have to accept, of course, I was just wondering. And I, you know…supposed that maybe going ice-skating would help you…change your mind?” He gave an awkward smile.

“You paid for everything because you wanted me to accept your offer?” Ethan questioned, chuckling softly and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’m paying you back,” the young brunette insisted. “ _Tomorrow_ …at your apartment.” He heavy a steady smile. “The offer sounds wonderful. Being paid more than I already _get paid_ is always something I’m interested in.” Mark let out a soft sigh, one filled with relief as he smiled at the young brunette. “Besides, I like taking care of Charlotte. Believe me, I would rather she be at home, too.”

“Thanks for understanding,” Mark mentioned gently, giving a half-smile. He almost stumbled forward, but he quickly gripped the railing. He was slumped down only slightly, now giving an awkward smile up at the young brunette, who attempted to stifle his laughter. “Thank God horrible ice-skating skills aren’t hereditary,” he joked, gesturing his head over to Charlotte. The young girl was giggling happily, pushing herself off of the rail on the opposite side of the rink before she continued skating. Ethan chuckled softly. “But, I’m afraid you can’t teach an old dog new tricks…I guess I must be one _old_ fucking dog.” Ethan smiled softly.

“Well, at least dogs _try_ to learn the tricks,” Ethan mentioned, shifting as he skated a few inches away, standing so that he was facing Mark. “Leaning things comes with practice, Mark, and practice comes with falling over.” The older man cocked his eyebrow slightly, forcing himself to his feet again. “Give it a few laps?” He suggested. “You’re not going to seriously tell me that you rented those ice-skates so you could cling to the edge of the rink the entire time.”

“Of course not,” Mark huffed.

“Then at least _try_ ,” Ethan insisted. He hummed, pulling himself away with a smile. The young man smirked a bit, shifting as he spun around slightly. Nothing fast or anything, just a simple turn on his right foot, his left blade kept slightly above the ground. He grinned, happily this time, as he glanced back at Mark when he was finished, noticing how the older man cocked his eyebrow in simple interest. “I mean, you’ll be nowhere as good as me,” he joked, “but you can dream.’

“Sure thing, kid,” Mark joked in return. 

“Well, I’ll be with Charlotte when you decide to join,” Ethan hummed simply, turning carefully on his skates and once again cherishing the soft noise of the blades scraping against the ice. The young man hummed, about to skate over to the younger girl, who was continuing to slowly make her way around the edge of the rink, but he heard a loud thud from behind him, followed by a shout. The young brunette glanced over his left shoulder, his eyes flickering with amusement as Mark was on his hands and knees, looking someone disheveled. The young man attempted to hold in his laughter, as he had several times before, but he just couldn’t help it. Ethan tossed his head back slightly, letting out amused laughter as he turned back around, resting his hands on his hips as Mark shifted back onto the palms of his hands, leaning against them and looking up at the young man sardonically. “Oh come on, that was funny,” he chuckled, grinning softly as Mark shifted again, a half-grin. “What happened?”

“I decided to join,” Mark scoffed jokingly.

“Oh, it sure looks like it,” the young man mentioned, carefully skating over to the older man, standing beside him. Mark glanced up at him, carefully shifting to stand to his feet, almost falling over as he tightly gripped Ethan’s shoulders. The young man giggled softly, his legs wobbling as he tried to hold himself up. “Jesus Christ, it’s not that hard to _stand_ ,” he insisted. Mark grinned, his legs wobbling a bit before he let out a soft shout, falling down and bringing Ethan down with him. The young brunette couldn’t help but laugh hysterically, tossing his head back as he propped himself up against the edge of the rink. Mark lay on his back, his hands folded carefully on his stomach as he looked up at the sky, giggling like a madman. Ethan smiled a bit. Maybe Charlotte was right. Maybe they would be best friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again.  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. This was a chapter I enjoyed writing due to the dialogue, which is what I consider to be the most exciting part of writing a story. 
> 
> Speaking of writing stories, I'm hard at work plotting out future fics. As you may or may not know, the next fic will be titled "Harbor", and it takes place during the Revolutionary War Era. As always, historical fiction comes with a shit ton of research, so I've started getting into that while working on B.o.M. However, after Harbour, I'm not quite sure what I'm going to work on next. So, I have a few ideas that I've decided to dabble in, and I'm interested in your feedback.  
> The simple AUs are:
> 
> \- A classic royalty alternate universe. A spoiled prince and a servant (or possibly a royal tutor, something common during the medieval and Victorian era). Nothing too out of bounds
> 
> \- A pirate and royalty alternate universe crossover. A prince who decides to run away from his kingdom and stow away on a docked ship, only to discover the captain is a *pirate* (I know, so original)
> 
> \- Just a good ol' coming-of-age story, centered around discovering sexual identity through a school musical.
> 
> \- A sequel to "Fifty Feet in the Air", although I guess I would have to find some plot for tat
> 
> \- Something that piqued my interest, a Firewatch Alternate Universe. Something similar to it, at least. Gotta love our bois as park rangers during the summer, lol.
> 
> \- Finally...any idea that you're open to! Got an AU idea or a plotline you want me to cover? I'd be more than happy to take a look. I'm desperate for ideas, believe me. 
> 
> ________
> 
> As always, thank you guys so much for your endless support on "Baby of Mine". I love reading your comments, as cliche as that sounds, and it's just a wonderful thing to wake up to or be surprised with throughout the day. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and, as always, Kudos + Comments appreciated.  
> I'll cya next chapter.
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply!


	9. Coming Undone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Here's a good ol' bittersweet chapter for you guys. I remembered saying something about coming back to the birth flashback in detail, so here it is! Something cute, something simple, but something beneficial to the plot.

Mark smiled softly as he opened the door to his apartment, allowing his daughter to toddle in happily, giggling with that same excitement she had had while she was on the ice. The older man gently patted his daughter on the shoulder, watching as she smiled up at him before stepping to the side to take her shoes off. The older man stepped inside after her, giving himself the room to close the door behind him. Charlotte hummed happily, sitting on the ground as she carefully took her shoes off, peeling the velcro apart and resting her shoes aside against the wall, where they went when they weren’t in use. Mark smiled down at his daughter proudly, something he found himself doing often, despite himself. How _couldn’t_ he be proud of her…just knowing that Charlotte was constantly happy, even without her mother beside her and even after being sent to daycare day after day…it was amazing. It made Mark _unbelievably_ proud, how his daughter always managed to keep composure; the older man often found himself slumping over at night, his eyes pooled with tears as he gripped the empty sheets beside him, longing for _someone_ to fill the empty space. Longing for someone to love him and for someone to love Charlotte…for someone to come along and make him feel less empty. To make it feel like there was something _there_.

God, the nights he had spent just moping in his bed, his arm wrapped around a pillow that he tugged close, his heart beating steadily and sadly in his chest as life managed to trudge on. That was the funny thing about everything; time and life would move on contently, as if there was nothing that had changed, but it would leave everyone else behind. Mark wasn’t even sure if he himself had moved on; he had thought about it before, and he _knew_ he didn’t love Kaitlyn. He _knew_ he didn’t…but he couldn’t move on from the feeling of being loved by someone apart from his daughter. Mark missed the feeling of lying beside someone in bed, and how they would be so willing to lean into his touch as soon as they woke up. He missed the _small_ things they did together. Mark missed standing in the living room, his arms hooked around his lover’s waist as he swayed with her gently, her forehead rested comfortably on his shoulder as their hearts both beat steadily together. He missed the feeling of climbing up to the roof of the apartment complex, lying on the concrete, and just staring upon at the stars, almost as if they were looking for something.

Mark missed the feeling of being able to love someone like that…love someone in such a way. It was a feeling he had lived without for so impossibly long; a feeling that he had been starved… _deprived_ of. Part of the older man wasn’t even sure that he would be _able_ to love someone like that again; if he would be able to fully mend that aching in his heart that longed for the gentle touch of his lover’s arm on his shoulder, or the press of their lips against his cheek. Just the little things…only the little things. Things that seemed so trivial, but so _necessary_. The man couldn’t remember the last time he had actually _kissed_ someone…no one he ever went on a date with seemed to even want to be _near him_ as soon as they learned he had a daughter, let alone kiss him at the end of the night. Part of it had almost become a piece of his lifestyle, of course, something the older man assumed he would just have to become _accustomed_ to; accustomed to the empty feeling…something that he was starting to accept as _normal_. Mark wasn’t even sure he would be _able_ to love someone like that again; the feeling surely wasn’t something that came naturally for him. At least…not as easy as it was for everyone else.

Love was something Mark knew that he _needed_ …but, at the same time, it was something part of him didn’t think he would find. He knew well enough that most people in the world who went out on a date…they weren’t looking to be tied down to a child that wasn’t even theirs. The majority of people wanted to have children of their own, but Mark was perfectly content with Charlotte; denying someone their wish to have a legitimate child wasn’t exactly a turn-on. The older man supposed part of him was being selfish…wishing for someone who would just easily accept him and his daughter as they were. However, at the same time, he wouldn’t expect anything less. He wouldn’t _accept_ anything less. Someone who loved his daughter would always trump someone who simply liked _Mark_. The older man knew well enough they were a package deal…and Charlotte was always more important to him. It was disheartening nevertheless, of course…disheartening for the small part of him that insisted he would never truly find anyone that made him feel happy…that made him feel loved. 

Mark forced a smile, however, as he always did when he was feeling down. He knew that he shouldn’t be upset in front of his daughter…he didn’t want her to know why he was upset, either. If Charlotte knew that he missed being loved, then she would be upset that she didn’t have a mother; that was just the way she was, and Mark didn’t want that to happen. So, he smiled confidently down at his daughter, knowing well enough her bubbling happiness would be enough to cheer him up on its own. He couldn’t be melancholy forever when he was around his daughter; it was a skill of hers, he supposed, a skill that he had never been able to obtain. 

“Did you have fun today?” Mark questioned gently, shifting on his feet to lock the door behind him. He glanced over his left shoulder at his daughter, who had now finished taking her shoes off. The older man smiled softly, a genuine smile, as the young girl nodded her head happily in return, an eager grin plastered on her face. “Me too,” he mentioned thoughtfully, pursing his lips as he slipped out of his shoes, humming underneath his breath as he placed them beside his daughter’s. Charlotte leaned on him gently, looking up at him with those bright eyes of hers. “Maybe we can go ice-skating more often, hm? Would that be something you would be interested in.”

Charlotte’s eyes lit up happily as she eagerly nodded her head. “Uh-huh,” she returned gently, a small smile growing on her face before she paused, thinking for a few seconds. “Dontcha got work, though?” She questioned, lightly. His daughter asked as if she feared the thought of taking her father away from work too early.

“Well,” Mark explained gently, crouching down in front of his daughter carefully, gently resting his hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “Daddy’s gonna be able to get a bit more time off of work from now on. It’s won’t be this big leap of getting hours off, I can’t promise you that; it’ll start off small. I’ll be able to get maybe an extra fifteen minutes shaved off of how long I have to work, tomorrow. I won’t have to work overtime anymore. Again, it’s not going to be anything _huge_ …but I’ll take whatever I can get.” The older man smiled. He knew well enough that there was a promotion offer coming up, but he assumed that Charlotte wouldn’t understand any of that mess, even if he attempted to explain it. It wasn’t a big promotion, or anything…but it did come with a pay raise. Hopefully, he would be able to get his hours shifted; and, if not completely, he knew well enough he would be able to get out of work early on occasions. That was enough to excite him, of course. Knowing that he would be able to spend more time with his daughter…it was enough to send him beaming. “How does that sound?” 

Charlotte giggled softly, swaying gently as she held her hands behind her back, a small smile creeping onto her face before she sheepishly nodded her head. “Uh-huh,” she replied gently, her voice light as she looked up at her father with a mere admiration; similar to how most children looked up to their parents. “How come?” His daughter continued curiously, cocking her head slightly, her ear almost pressed against her shoulder as she stood there carefully. Mark smiled simply, patting his daughter’s shoulder gently.

“Well,” Mark explained carefully, smiling. “I was thinking back to what I mentioned to you a few days ago…how I wanted you to be able to be home more. And I really do want you to stay at the apartment more often; I’m sure you love everything the daycare has to offer…I’m sure it’s got plenty of books and stuffed animals, but you shouldn’t have to leave the house so frequently. You’ll be starting school next year, and you’ll be out of the house anyway…you should be able to enjoy staying at home while you can, without worrying about going somewhere else for the entire day.” The older man paused, noticing how his daughter continued to look at him with confusion. “And, well…daycare costs a lot of money, angel. Not a _lot_ , but a fair bit. More than it costs to have someone who stays at the apartment with you.” Charlotte’s face drooped slightly when she realized what her father was talking about, and she remembered well enough mentioning how she didn’t _want_ to leave daycare, especially because she liked being able to see Ethan.

“But you said I could stay,” Charlotte mentioned thoughtfully, her eyes softening as she looked at her father sadly. Mark gave a half-smile. God, how could anyone deny anything from her when she had that look in her eye? Mark knew well enough she would be excited when she learned that Ethan would be looking after her, but _God_ , the look in her eyes was enough to make Mark upset himself. “You didn’t _promise_ , but…you’re not ‘posed to lie.”

“Aww, honey,” Mark cooed softly, pressing a gentle kiss against his daughter’s forehead. “You know I would never lie to you, right?” Charlotte looked back at him plainly before shrugging his shoulders. The older man couldn’t help but chuckle as he tucked a lock of his daughter’s hair behind her ear. “Well, for further reference…I would _never_ lie to you. Not now, not then, not ever.” His daughter gave a hesitant nod as she looked at him. “You said you wanted to stay at the daycare because you liked Ethan, right? Because you wanted to keep him company, and because you didn’t want him to be lonely all day?” The young girl shifted.

“Uh-huh,” she said softly.

“Well,” Mark returned gently, giving a kind smile. “I took that into consideration, darling. I want you to be happy. You know that, don’t you?” His daughter gave a sheepish nod in return. “And it’s the truth. There was never a moment in your life where I never wanted you to be happy, or where I did things I _knew_ would make you upset.” He paused, smiling a bit more. “Which is _why_ I asked Ethan if he would be alright coming over to the apartment to babysit you while I’m at work, so I don’t have to drop you off at the daycare center anymore.” Charlotte’s eyes lit up as she stared back at her father, almost in disbelief. The older man couldn’t help but chuckle. “So, tomorrow, you don’t have to worry about going to daycare, because Ethan will be coming over to watch you from now until you start school. How does that sound?”

Charlotte stood there for a few seconds before she giggled softly, leaning forward and eagerly wrapping her arms loosely around her father’s neck in a hug. Mark smiled softly, gently hugging his daughter in return. “I’m glad you’re happy…” the older man whispered softly, his voice genuine as he spoke lightly to Charlotte. His daughter being happy was something that made the older man incredibly content…knowing that, despite everything, she would be able to have a smile on her face just filled his heart completely. _Mended_ it, in a way. Not completely mended, but just enough. The young girl pulled away after a few seconds, a visible smile still fixed on her face.

“Now,” Mark continued, pressing a gentle kiss against his daughter’s forehead before standing to his feet. Charlotte squealed softly, giggling wildly as she looked up at her father. “It’s not time for dinner yet, so how about you and I both get into our pajamas, and we can watch a movie before I make dinner? How does that sound?” Charlotte smiled, giving an eager nod of her head in return. “Alright, go get changed.” The older man chuckled softly as his daughter giggled, quickly turning around and rushing off to her bedroom. He rested his hands on his hips, pausing thoughtfully before he walked over to the kitchen, resting his phone and the keys to his apartment on the table. Mark supposed he would text Ethan the address, along with what time would be best to arrive, before he forgot. The two had luckily been able to swap numbers after they were finished ice-skating…if that was even what they could describe it as. Mark had found himself stumbling around almost the entire time; when he _had_ been truly moving across the ice, it was with wobbling knees and flailing arms, all while he watched Ethan glide across with ease, giving a few turns with a shit-eating grin of his.

Mark supposed the experience had been exciting nevertheless, of course. He had been able to spend time with his daughter, and it was awfully interesting to be able to get to know the man who Charlotte had been talking about for nearly the entirety of the past three months. Mark had always assumed that Ethan would look… _older_. Ethan really did look like a college sophomore, if he had to be direct, although he knew well enough he was most likely older than that. To be fair, however, Mark hadn’t really _expected_ him to look like anything in particular. He had assumed blonde, of course, but he supposed he had been wrong on that factor. Ethan seemed like an interesting person, though. In a good way, of course. He was an awfully good ice-skater, which wasn’t something the older man would have expected from just looking at him. Being able to watch him turn on one foot, giving a grin of bliss as he spun around, obviously not a care in the world…it was breathtaking, in a strange way. When Mark was his age, the only thing on his mind was attempting to become more mature..that seemed to be the last thing on Ethan’s mind as he spun around the ice-skating rink, catching the attention of others who were enjoying their afternoon. Of course, the young man was mature enough to look after himself.

He was awfully good with children, Mark couldn’t help but admit. Something that the older man knew he wouldn’t have been any good at himself. Ethan seemed to know how to talk to Charlotte like she was an adult, although he would speak in simpler terms. His daughter seemed to appreciate him truly, to say the least. Ethan seemed to be the only person her daughter could talk about for the last week, always commenting on how he had helped her color inside the lines, or how he had helped her sort books by color, or how they had mutually decided which stuffed animal was the best and why. Mark had always commented gently on how it would be nice to meet Ethan, and he had always noticed that the young man was never there whenever he went to the daycare center. It was always a man named Sean. Mark had once asked about Ethan to Rebecca, someone he had been able to get to know before he enrolled Charlotte into daycare, but the woman had simply replied with saying ‘he’s the one who can never remember to sign in’, saying nothing more; it hadn’t been the most helpful piece of information. The older man had, of course, asked Sean about Ethan, and the man had simply explained that the young man didn’t work the later shifts; only the morning and afternoon ones.

Mark sent a quick text over to Ethan, reminding him what time he would need to show up, as well as the apartment address, what floor they were on, and the room number. He also added in a small ‘thank you’ for helping him out, especially considering Charlotte wouldn’t have accepted anyone else babysitting her. Mark knew that well enough. She was stubborn, for the most part, unlike the older man. She hardly gave into anything, and she surely wouldn’t give in to the idea of anyone babysitting her who wasn’t Ethan. He supposed it was sweet, of course, although he didn’t understand how she wouldn’t accept anyone else. Mark was sure that he could find someone in New York who was the same as Ethan within a second…but he knew well enough that his daughter would be beyond upset if he had hired anyone else, although he would never quite understand why. After he texted the young man, he rested his phone down on the table again so he wouldn’t be looking at it. He wanted to be able to spend the rest of the evening enjoying the company of his daughter, without being distracted by anything else.

Mark hummed softly, making his way over to his bedroom so he could get changed into his pajamas. He slipped into his room, closing the door behind him and making sure to lock it. Despite reminding his daughter several times, the young girl had a habit of opening the door whenever she needed to say anything to him, instead of simply mentioning it from the other side. Luckily, she had never opened the door during an inconvenient time period. Mark walked carefully over his bureau, continuing to hum lightly underneath his breath as he sorted through the pairs of pajamas, looking for one that would be comfortable. Eventually, he found himself reaching in and pulling out a pair that he hadn’t worn in a while…with the sky blue background and the repeated pattern of honey shaded corgis. The older man gave a half-smile as he looked down at the folded pair, remembering how Kaitlyn had bought. Them for him; for Christmas. Charlotte’s first Christmas, in fact, and his girlfriend had been so excited to give the set of pajamas to him, insisting that he was going to love them. Mark quite frankly couldn’t remember the last time he had even considered wearing them. He had spotted them before, yes, but he had always pushed them aside after the first sight of them.

Mark supposed it was an inconsiderable problem, and that there was hardly anything wrong with wearing a pair of pajamas his girlfriend had bought him. Although, he had thrown away most of the previous gifts that the woman had gifted him, from clothing to small trinkets. He never threw out anything of Charlotte’s, of course, that wouldn’t be fair to her. After all, his daughter wasn’t the one holding a grudge. Nevertheless, Mark rested the set of pajamas onto his bed, humming softly as he started unbuttoning his flannel shirt, which he tossed into the hamper. After another minute, the older man had gotten dressed. He looked down at the pajamas, giving a half-smile despite himself. He supposed that there had been no good reason for throwing out previous articles of clothing; Kaitlyn had good taste, despite what Mark would have to say about her. He smiled, slipping on a new pair of socks before he went to the door of his bedroom, unlocking and opening it before slipping into the hallway. The door to his daughter’s bedroom was open, so he could only assume that she was waiting in the living room. Mark hummed softly, getting a half-running start before he slid on his socks into the living room, almost stumbling over himself before he caught his balance on the chair.

His daughter giggled wildly from the couch. Mark glanced at her, returning a warm smile. She was wearing her ballerina pink pajama set, with flamingos littered down the side. Mark remembered buying it for her on her birthday, after his daughter had asked for a new pair of pajamas. Preferably pink, she had requested. “You like those pajamas?” Mark questioned softly, making his way over to the couch and watching as Charlotte nodded eagerly, shifting over so her father could take his preferred seat on the right side of the couch. The older man smiled, sitting down and reaching for the remote to turn on the TV. “Alright, my movie connoisseur, what’d’you feel like watching?”

Charlotte pursed her lips in thought for a few seconds. “Um…” she started, her voice trailing off lightly in a way that Mark could _only_ describe as adorable. “I dunno.” The older man chuckled softly, ruffling his daughter’s hair gently and noticing how she squealed in return, her eyes crinkling as she grinned. 

Mark got up from the couch so he could walk over to the TV. He knelt down carefully, near the bookcase which was used as a TV stand. Beside some of the picture books that his daughter was so fond of was a series of DVDs, some of which they hadn’t watched before. “Well, I’m sure we’ve got something here that you would be interested in,” he mentioned, his fingertips trailing across the series of DVD cases. His eyes scanned over the arrangement, looking at the titles of movies that he hadn’t watched in so long, only because he had been too busy for it. Mark pursed his lips before his eyes landed on a movie that he himself hadn’t watched in years. “How about _The Fox and The Hound_?” He suggested, reaching to a movie that he knew his daughter had never seen before, glancing over his left shoulder to look at her. Charlotte looked back at him curiously, obviously not knowing what the movie was about. “I watched this movie all the time when I was your age. It was really the only thing I _wanted_ to watch.” Charlotte giggled softly.

“Puppies?” She questioned softly.

“Uh-huh, there’s a puppy,” Mark repeated, giving a small smile as his daughter’s eyes lit up. “There’s a fox, too. And all sorts of birds, and a few other animals. It’s a very good movie. Is that something you would be interested in?” Charlotte nodded her head eagerly, sitting in the edge of the couch with excitement. Mark smiled, facing the DVD player. He hummed, sliding the disk carefully into the player before standing to his feet. The older man turned on his heels, returning to the couch and falling back beside his daughter. Charlotte giggled softly, leaning into her father’s touch as she pressed herself against his side. Mark couldn’t help but smile, wrapping his arm carefully around his daughter’s shoulder. “Aww, my pretty girl,” he cooed softly, the movie starting to play in the background.

Charlotte giggled sheepishly. “Ya think so?” She asked curiously.

Mark shifted carefully, giving a small nod of his head in return. “Of course,” he whispered, his voice sincere as he gingerly tucked a lock of his daughter’s hair behind her ear. “I knew it from the moment I first laid eyes on you…” the older man pressed a gentle kiss against his daughter’s forehead, smiling gently.

∞§—————§∞

_Mark stood near the edge of the room, his heart seemingly thudding in his chest, echoing in his ears as he watched the controlled chaos ensuing around him. He supposed that was the same with every birth, of course. Everyone was on the edge of their seat, even if they weren’t sitting, nurses stumbling over themselves to grab the correct medical tools to continue the cesarean delivery. The older man, of course, felt utterly helpless and frustrated as he stood on his own, knowing well enough there was nothing he could do to speed up the process. It wasn’t like there was anything going_ wrong _…no one was panicking; everyone seemed to know what they were doing. Of course they knew…they were doctors._ Mark _, however, was not a doctor, and he knew well enough he didn’t want to see his girlfriend being sliced open. He glanced at the ceiling, sucking in a small breath, his breathing shaky in general. God, he wasn’t ready. None of him was ready for any of this…he was about to see his daughter for the first time, and he wasn’t prepared. He didn’t_ want _this. There wasn’t a single part go him that wanted this._

_Mark had_ told _Kaitlyn…he had reminded his girlfriend repeatedly that abortion was an option, and he had done so relentlessly; his girlfriend had always refused. She had always refused. He supposed that was in loving nature, of course, but he just…he_ couldn’t _imagine being a father. When Mark thought of himself in such a light, he never thought of himself as a father. He supposed part of him was selfish for suggesting so…but he couldn’t take care of a kid. Part of Mark wasn’t even sure if he could take care of himself…adding a daughter into the mix surely wasn’t something that would be beneficial. He never_ asked _for a daughter. He never asked for a pregnancy, or to be sitting in a hospital room just_ waiting _for the baby to be delivered. God, if only they could have been more careful. That was the only thing the older man had been able to think for the last nine months, the regrets circling through his brain. If_ only _they had been more careful. None of this would have happened. He wouldn’t have to assume a fatherly role, because he wouldn’t be_ expected _to become a father._

_Kaitlyn knew well enough that they could have been more careful, too, but her mindset was so incredibly differing from Mark’s, and the older man knew it. Unlike him, she was prepared to assume the role of a parent. She didn’t share any regret for what happened. Although it wasn’t what she had expected, the woman had never complained. Kaitlyn had never once humored the thought of abortion, no matter how many times the older man tempted it. Mark had found himself abandoned with his own frustration, not even sure who he was supposed to confide with. His girlfriend had been so adamant about the situation throughout her pregnancy that he knew complaining to her would make so difference. So, the older man seemingly found himself building walls around himself, not knowing who he was supposed to turn to. It seemed as if no one wanted to listen to him. Mark’s only way of_ coping _with the situation was attempting to shield himself from the idea entirely. But now, he couldn’t hide it anymore._ Now _, everything was so incredibly real, and it was unfolding before him like the stages in a picture book, every single moment that the man had been dreading for the past nine months._

_Mark could still remember the way his heart had skipped beats in his chest upon hearing from his girlfriend that his water had broke…how he had attempted to convince her that surely it wasn’t her water breaking, and that it was just an uncontrolled bladder. Kaitlyn had insisted, of course, which had only made the older man fill head-to-toe with dread before he pushed his frustration aside, knowing well enough that the safety of his girlfriend and his future daughter was more important than the constant regret that flowed through his veins. And now, they were here. Here in a hospital room, where Mark found that every other heartbeat in his chest had skipped over, and all because of the emergency cesarean and such. Now, he was standing wearing a standard surgeon’s cap, a sky blue plastic-like shirt covering his clothing underneath. It had been suggested he wear it to keep the room ‘sterile’, and of course, the older man hadn’t argued. Anything for the safety of his girlfriend. Mark might have been dreading the baby, but he wasn’t the type of monster who would just wait outside. He took another shaky breath, allowing himself to count down from ten to calm his nerves. The older man was beyond nervous, which mixed in with the overwhelming,_ suffocating, _feeling of dread, regret, and frustration. He didn’t even know how to describe the way he was feeling._

_Mark’s attention was grasped as he heard a baby crying. His heart was in his throat as he tensed up slightly, the nurses rushing over. The controlled chaos seemed slightly less controlled, although not in a panic. He could hear the cooing of nurses, each of them exclaiming how beautiful she was, and how Kaitlyn had done so well, and how she looked perfectly healthy already. Mark didn’t know if he was supposed to move closer or not, so he simply stayed put. The older man sucked in another quick breath, shifting awkwardly on his feet as a series of nurses and doctors crowded around, each one of them surely completing an important task in the process, all while he stood there oft the side;_ dreading _. He wasn’t ready. Oh God, he wasn’t ready. It was enough to make him sweat like a madman, just the thought. Mark had trouble swallowing; he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. How could he? He wasn’t ready to be a father…but he was. At that very second, the man became a father, and there was nothing he could do tho prevent the fact._

_Mark watched carefully as a nurse emerged from the group, holding a swaddled baby carefully in her arms. His daughter. The baby was still crying, of course, but the nurse was holding her gently, her attention being caught by Mark as he stood by himself. The older man took a few hesitant steps forward, assuming that there would be some sort of news the woman had to report. He watched as her eyes crinkled, and even through the mask he knew she was smiling. “Would you like to hold her, Mr. Fischbach?” She questioned softly, gesturing her head down to the baby. Mark felt his breath hitching in his throat, his body tensing up slightly at the thought. Surely that wouldn’t be appropriate…surely the nurse knew well enough that he didn’t_ want _to hold his daughter._

_“Um…wouldn’t it be better if Katy got to hold her first?” Mark questioned hesitantly, glancing at his girlfriend out of the corner of his eye, “Doesn’t seem right for me to be doing it.”_

_“Mr. Fischbach,” the nurse explained, starting to carefully bounce his daughter in her arms, only slightly, as she looked at him seriously. “Your girlfriend can’t hold the baby until she’s stitched up. We need to keep everything sterile. Now, I’m sure that won’t take long, but it’s either_ you _hold the baby, or the nurses hold the baby.” The woman paused, giving Mark a look before glancing down at the baby. “Don’t you wanna hold her?”_

_Mark bit his lip before giving a hesitant nod. “Oh-okay,” he returned quickly, taking a small step forward. He carefully positioned his arms in a similar way to the nurse was, watching how she extended her arms, carefully delivering the young girl into his arms. Mark found himself quickly assuming a gentle stance as he held his daughter close, looking down at her. His heart shuddered slightly as he felt his daughter relaxing into his touch, her cries growing quieter before fading. Mark felt his bottom lip quiver, his eyes tearing up slightly…he felt himself coming_ undone _. Every single wall that he built up through the past nine months was knocked down at once. God, she was beautiful…and she was his. She was_ his _daughter. And, for once, Mark felt a sense of pride…something that he had never experienced before. A watery smile slowly crept onto his face as he gazed down at his daughter, his head cocking slightly as he bounced her carefully in his arms._

_“Hi…” Mark whispered softly, a soft, broken chuckle escaping his lips, cracking slightly through the tears. “Hey there, honey…I’m your dad.” He gave another chuckle, glancing up from his daughter and just giving a watery smile of disbelief as he glanced around the room. A few of the nurses glanced at them, their eyes crinkling with a smile. Mark glanced back down at his daughter, trying not to let out a choked sob, regaining his posture. “I’m so sorry…” he whispered, his voice breaking…his voice so_ sincere _. “I never should have doubted this…” Mark spoke as if his daughter would be able to understand him. He spoke as if his daughter demanded an apology for why he had dreaded this day. “I love you so much…” he whispered, tears flooding down his cheeks as he just stared down at his daughter with a loving gaze. “Charlotte…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your endless support on Baby of Mine! It makes me feel so much more confident as a writer being able to receive such support, especially after the kindness I received on Fifty Feet in the Air. I have so many future plot points for this piece, and I'm sorry if I'm taking my time with everything. I just want you guys to know that this piece *is* deeper than just a relationship. It's about mending the past, healing both physically and emotionally, and learning to grow as a person. I didn't really include much of a subplot like this in Fifty Feet in the Air, so I'm looking to change that for Baby of Mine
> 
> That being said, this fic will *probably* be a bit longer, and it will go more in-depth with character development than Fifty Feet in the Air did. I hope you guys understand this, and I hope you're alright with a few chapters being dedicated to flashbacks, the growth of a character, or generally a chapter that isn't all lovey-dovey or where Mark and Ethan are together.
> 
> But, back to positivity. Thank you so much for your support! This chapter was *so* exciting to write because I actually love Mark's relationship with his daughter so much. It was something so incredibly strained before her birth, and I tried to show that as much as I could through this chapter. To put it simply, Mark did not want a child in the beginning. However, this fact and how he's so open to change is something I wanted to include with his character, because I believe it truly represents the strength of his relationship with Charlotte and *why* he cares about her so much. It's not *just* because his girlfriend 'dumped' him with a child. No. He *loves* Charlotte, truly. He loved her before his girlfriend left. That was just something I wanted to get across, in case if at any point it seemed like he was only caring for her after Kaitlyn left.
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated.
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply!
> 
> ________
> 
> (P.S. Thank you guys so much for the AU ideas, suggestions, and confirmations last chapter. That really helped me narrow it down to three. I don't wanna put you on the spot, BUT, I wanna tally and see which plot idea will come after Harbor.)
> 
> The three choices are:
> 
> A) The classic story of a spoiled prince and a servant longing to earn his respect
> 
> B) The story of how a prince, dreading the thought of being betrothed, runs away from his kingdom and stows away on a ship at the dock during the night. However, he comes to find out that the ship's captain is a pirate. Plot ensues, lol
> 
> C) A coming-of-age fiction of a senior trying to impress his (female) crush, who then decides to throw himself into the spotlight and audition for the leading role in the musical. I won't give away any more, lol
> 
> If you do end up picking A or B, I'm also curious as to who you want to be who. Will Ethan be the prince or the servant? Will Mark be the pirate of the prince? I'm always open for suggestions.


	10. Maybe Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This chapter is really short because I'm currently swamped with work at the moment. Updates might come slower for the next week, but I promise the next chapter will be better!!!

Ethan let out a groggy groan, the sound of his alarm ringing in his ears. For a few seconds, he almost forgot. For a split second, the young brunette wanted to reach his hand over to the side table to grab his phone, abruptly turning off the alarm so he could fall back to sleep. After all, his shift didn’t start until the evening; surely the young man must have set his alarm boy accident, or he had his previous one set to every morning, where he would have to manually change that. The last thing Ethan wanted to do was get out of bed…he wanted to lay still for the rest of the morning, take his time with everything before _maybe_ having a cup of coffee. He just wanted to disappear into the assortment of sheets and covers, allowing himself to melt into the touch of his blankets again. For a few seconds, he didn’t even bother reaching over to turn the alarm off; almost as if the young man would be able to ignore it if he wished, even though he knew well enough he wouldn’t be able to. It was nice to dream though, he supposed. However, after a few more seconds, the young man remembered why he had set his alarm in the first place. It wasn’t on accident.

Ethan sat up in bed, running a hand through his hair as he reached over for his phone. He cleared his throat, swallowing thickly to cure his dry throat before he turned off the alarm. The young brunette ruffled his hair again, arching his back slightly, his shoulder blades pushing back slightly as he let out a soft groan. Ethan blinked his eyes heavily, the blur that had previously been lingering slowly starting to fade, his normal vision returning. He cleared his throat again, carefully tossing the covers off of himself. The young brunette shivered slightly, wishing he had the ability to stay in bed for just a few more minutes. However, he knew well enough that another minute would lead into ten minutes…which would lead to fifteen minutes…which would lead into half an hour. Ethan knew well enough that he procrastinated as such, so trying to push off getting out of bed wouldn’t be beneficial. Besides, it wasn’t like the morning was going to be completely agonizing. After all, he would be able to see the Fischbach’s apartment for the first time…which he supposed was _something_ to look forward to. Of course, that came with being able to watch Charlotte for the morning, afternoon, and evening, which _truly_ was something to look forward to.

Ethan slipped out of bed, his feet hitting the hold hardwood floor. He let out wince, adjusting to the feeling before he walked over to his closet. The young man had showered the night before, as he always had, so at least he wouldn’t be tripping over himself to get ready. All the brunette really had to do was get dressed. So, he opened his closet door, his eyes scanning carefully over the small arrangement of clothes that he could pick through. Ethan supposed that he wouldn’t exactly have to _dress-up_ to watch a child; it wasn’t like he would have to impress anyone. The young man hummed as he carefully reached for one of his hoodies. The oversized kind, of course; Ethan loved the comforting feeling that larger clothing seemed to bring. More loose… _flexible_. He pushed the thought aside, tugging the sweatshirt off of the hanger, being careful not to snap it. The young man found that he would tug so forcefully on his clothing that the hanger attached to it would often snap, the top part coming unattached from the base. However, he was careful this time, tugging it over his head as he slipped his arms in.

The young brunette poked his head through, humming softly as he pulled the sweatshirt down, the hem resting just slightly below his upper thigh. Ethan turned on his heels, walking over to his bureau, where he would be able to find his pants. The young man glanced at his phone again, which still rested on the nightstand, so he could check the time. He had about ten minutes before he would actually have to leave the house, so he supposed that was more than enough time to get dressed and have a simple cup of coffee. Ethan had actually _eaten_ something the night before, which he couldn’t help but feel guilty about at the moment. He had just been in a good mood, confident if one could describe it, and he just didn’t think about what he was doing when he did it. Of course, Ethan knew that could simply be fixed by not eating anything that morning, so it wasn’t like it mattered. The young brunette supposed it was just a mental thing, since having a small dinner _truly_ hadn’t affected him, and a small portion of him _knew_ that it hadn’t done anything…but he just couldn’t help it.

Ethan pulled open the drawer to his bureau. He had recently gone to the laundromat, so there was still an assortment of pants that he could choose from. The young brunette reached for an onyx pair of skinny jeans, ones that were ripped slightly at the knee. Ethan supposed it wasn’t the most _intelligent_ decision, considering it was winter, but he found them comfortable, so he didn’t complain. He simply pulled them out, shifting onto his bed so he could put them on without falling over. Ethan leaned back, tugging his pants on before practically jumping into them, heaving him to his waist. He hummed contently underneath his breath, zipping them and buttoning before he put on a pair of socks. Ethan lifted himself off from his bed, reaching for his phone and shoving it in the back pocket of his pants. He walked to the door, opening it before sliding into the hallway on his socks, giving a light giggle as he almost tripped over himself. The young man supposed he had enough time to get a cup of coffee before he would eventually have to leave. Despite previously slipping his phone away, he fished through his pack pocket again to find it, pulling it free so he could check Mark’s text.

The older man had sent the young brunette a text the previous day about all the basic things he would need to know about babysitting Charlotte. Where their apartment was, what floor it was on, the room number, what time to get there, what time Mark would usually be getting home; all of the facts. The older man had continued in a separate message that he would explain everything else he needed to know as soon as he got there. Ethan smiled, looking down at the text. He hadn’t really responded, since he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. The two of them had swapped numbers, yes, but it had only been so they could message back and forth in case there was an emergency with Charlotte. It wasn’t exactly a _friendly_ sort of thing…Ethan knew well enough that Mark didn’t want to treat it as such. They had only known each other _truly_ for about an afternoon, after all. A few hours, maybe. Surely not anymore. Nevertheless, despite what the young man had previously convinced himself, he was quick to type out a message in return. It just seemed rude not to say anything, even if all he said was something small.

> **E:** Heading over in a few minutes :)

The young brunette hoped that the emoticon wouldn’t be too much of an overkill; surely it wasn’t something that could be considered overly-friendly. Ethan hummed softly, staring down at his phone, almost as if he was expected a response. He blinked heavily, shaking his head in disbelief from the way he was acting before he slipped his phone away. Ethan made his way over to his kitchen, letting out a soft yawn as he knelt down, opening the door to the cabinet before reached for the box of Keurig pods. He grasped one carefully before standing to his feet, reaching over and putting it in the machine. There was still water in it, although it would take another minute to heat up. Ethan stood on his toes, reaching up to the overhead cabinet, opening the door and finding a mug. He hummed softly, smiling when he looked out the one that was shaped like Mickey Mouse, in a way. He rested it carefully underneath the spout of the Keurig, pressing the button after he put the pod in before pulling away to sit at the table. Ethan drummed his fingers lightly against it, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. At least it wasn’t spinning, he supposed.

Ethan perked up gently when he heard his phone dinging from his pocket. He reached his hand into his pocket again, as he had before, pulling out his phone. Sure enough, Mark had texted him back. The young brunette gave a half-smile, reluctantly tapping on his contact with a grin. He didn’t know why he was so overly excited; he supposed just being able to talk to someone was more than enough to make him happy.

> **M:** Cool cool.

Ethan was about to put his phone down, before he realized that the trio of typing dots had emerged on the screen again, signifying that the older man was typing. Ethan said nothing, resting his phone face up on the table. He perked up slightly from the sound of the Keurig finally pouring his coffee. The young brunette lifted himself from his chair, ignoring his phone as he shifted over to the counter. Ethan watched contently as his coffee poured into the mug, the soft sound echoing through his ears as he drummed his fingers lightly against the counter. The young brunette heard another soft ding from the table. He gave a half-grin, reaching for his cup of coffee before returning to the kitchen table. He rested his mug down gently, humming softly to himself as he reached for his phone. To his surprise, Mark had texted him again. He clicked on his contact once more, giving a half-smile as he read his message.

> **M:** making breakfast rn. Wbu?

Ethan paused for a few seconds. He had really only expected a quick reply to his original message, just something that provided simple acknowledgment. It was nice, though, being somewhat appreciated. He took a small sip of his coffee, typing slowly with his left hand.

> **E:** Coffee

Ethan hummed contently as he took another sip, tapping his feet gently underneath the table as he went. He was awfully happy, to say the least. Being able to babysit Charlotte for the entire day, while making a higher pay than he already did…it sure was worth it.

> **M:** Pic?

Ethan cocked his eyebrow softly, letting out a soft huff of laughter.

> **E:** Of my coffee? Lmfao. Why?

The young brunette rested his phone down before taking another sip of coffee. Regardless, despite the odd request, Ethan went into his camera application. He extended his arm, flipping the camera so it was taking a selfie. The young brunette made sure to show off his mug, putting on a purposely awkward expression, because he knew well enough trying to look cute in a picture being sent to someone he didn’t even know if he could consider a friend was weird. Another ding. He exited the camera roll, re-entering into the messages app. Sure enough, another text from Mark.

> **M:** Forgot to buy Keurig pods :( Can’t have coffee til I get to the office

Ethan rolled his eyes playfully, sending the picture.

> **M:** Is that Mickey Mouse???

> **E:** Hell yeah it is

Ethan took a final sip of coffee before he rested his mug aside on the table, knowing well enough he would get to cleaning it up later. The young man pulled himself up from his chair, waiting to see if there would be the trio of dots again, but nothing appeared. Nevertheless, he slipped his phone into his back pocket, supposing he could get there quicker so Mark could get to his coffee. The young man couldn’t help but let out another huff of laughter, pushing his hand through his hair as he walked to the door. This time, however, the brunette reminded himself to grab his jacket, since he had been foolish enough to forget his on Friday. Ethan slipped into his shoes, reaching for his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. The young man had everything he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your support on this piece! I'm having a lot of fun with it, and you guys are going to love the plot points I'll be hitting. This chapter wasn't exactly a FILLER, because it didn't fit with the next chapter, but I wanted to include it.  
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Thank you!  
> \- Simply


	11. A Weird Sort of Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! This chapter is almost double the length of the last one to make up for such a short chapter :D  
> I'm currently visiting family in Northern Ireland (don't worry, I live in UK, I drove; I didn't fly, lol), which is why chapters might not come out as frequently as I would hope for. However, I'll keep the chapters as consistent as I can.

Mark hummed softly as he stood at the counter, running a hand through his hair. It wasn’t much earlier than normal, but part of him just felt so extremely tired; it wasn’t just due to the lack of coffee, either. Sure, that didn’t exactly make the situation any better, but it wasn’t the root of the problem. Mark was stressed, and he knew that well enough. He supposed a part of him didn’t have a _true_ reason to be stressed, or something to stress over, but he was just as anxious nevertheless. Part of him was just restless, the almost familiar churning in his stomach returning to him. Everything in life seemed to be giving him stress at the moment. There was a big promotion offer coming up, one that the older man knew well enough he would have to get for himself. It was the only way. It was the only way Mark would _truly_ be able to work fewer hours…the way he would be able to spend more time with his daughter, instead of having someone else watch her…watch her grow and get to see all of the things he wouldn’t even be _there_ to see, all because he was at work. It was an awful feeling, really. Knowing that someone else would be staying at home, possibly watching her do things for the first time.

Learning how to do her own hair. That was something almost trivial, yes, but it could also be something Mark would miss if he was away. Figuring out the proper way to pour juice on her own, without making a mess, or helping clean up after lunch properly. Learning to spell her last name correctly, despite how many times it had been repeated to her, or learning how to read through a book without getting stuck on any of the words…even the big ones. During the day was when his daughter was most creative, he knew that well enough. Where she drew, and when she danced, and when she laughed happily and joked, and was free to allow her mind to explore. Those were the moments in the day that Mark had never seen before…he had only heard about them. He had never really _seen_ his own daughter draw, but instead have his gaze linger on the page she had created for him. The older man had been told about how his daughter liked to dance from Rebecca and Sean, but he had never seen it happen. Mark wasn’t _there_ to see it happen.

It had always been like that, he supposed. The only change was that someone _new_ would be watching her. That position had simply been passed down from one lucky person to another lucky person; _they_ would be the ones who got to see it. Not him. _Never_ him. Despite how many times Mark had tried to get a promotion, it was always passed to someone else. The role that he had found himself working for seemingly his entire life was shrugged off to someone new in the business…someone who they considered a _prodigy_. Never him. Never someone who had spent their entire life bending over backward just to get a _glimpse_ of a promotion, something that wasn’t even always offered to him. It was almost something foreign; they happened all the time, but Mark never found himself even considered to fill the role. His boss wouldn’t even tell him there was one occurring…Mark would hardly ever know half the time until one of his co-workers was moving out and up. Up in the world. Up in the industry. Up in _life_. Mark would always stay behind, of course. He would just watch from behind. In all of his years working, he had never once received a promotion. After slaving away at a keyboard for hours upon hours, away from his daughter and away from his apartment and away from his _family_ …he didn’t even get shit in return.

Mark supposed that was just how it was, of course. Just another pathetic excuse for the industry to allow those who were fresh out of college to succeed. Mark was young. He wasn’t old; he wasn’t exactly fresh out of college, but he deserved the positions more than anyone else did, and he was aware of that. The older man knew well enough that there was just so much potential for what he would do with the company, and where he could take them…if only he could be _noticed_. Mark knew that being noticed was his ticket out…his ticket _up_. Nobody got noticed at the bottom level, it appeared, but if he could just inch his way up even _slightly_ …it would be smooth sailing. He just knew it; and all it took was a promotion. All it took was his boss _finally_ realizing that keeping him on the ground level wasn’t even helping the company. It wasn’t like he was _only_ good at sorting documents and typing away. There was so much more he could be doing. His boss _knew_ well enough that the job he did was nothing extraordinary; it was something that anybody could do. If Mark could only be considered for a higher role…God, a man could dream. That was all the older man really had to think of it as; a dream that he wished so _desperately_ would finally come true.

Yet, every day, despite himself…he would find himself putting on his button-down shirt, tucking it attentively into his dress pants. He would pull on a blazer, buttoning the single button knowing well enough it would come undone when he entered the office. Mark would slip on his dress shoes, lacing them up attentively. He would fix his hair and he would straighten his tie, making sure that nothing was out of line. Despite knowing well enough no one would notice that he wasn’t wearing a tie, or if his shoes were on the wrong feet…he did it anyway. He did it because there was always that sliver of chance that life would _finally_ go his way. The older man couldn’t remember the last time that had actually happened; the last time where life had decided to help him instead of punching him in the face. But, he would put on a smile. Mark would always put on a smile, because he knew well enough that his daughter needed to know of the struggles…she didn’t need to learn about them yet. Barely making rent, not buying coffee so he would be able to cut off a few expenses, trying to figure out how the hell he would be able to buy Charlotte something for Christmas. Everything just piled on top of each other, but he knew well enough he couldn’t tell her. Mark couldn’t break her heart.

Because, despite everything shitty in the world…he had his daughter. He had her to laugh with, and to hold, and to read stories to. Mark had Charlotte…and she was one of the only things in the world that could make him smile. Whenever she leaned on his shoulder on the couch, even just gently, the man felt almost complete. Not fully…but _almost_. When she stood on his feet, reaching her hands up to hold his…God, there was hardly any moment happier. Charlotte, seemingly unlike anyone else in the world, didn’t matter if her father wasn’t considered ‘important’. That's what everyone else looked at in life…how much someone made, and what their business title was. The young girl hadn’t even learned that her father got _paid_ at work until a few months ago, and the only thing she called him was ‘Daddy’. Nothing else mattered to her, and that was something Mark considered wonderful; he would never fully understand it, but he appreciated it nevertheless. It was childhood innocent, he supposed. A beautiful thing that he wished almost everyone could share a piece of…especially him.

Mark reached for his cup of water from the counter, pulling away from it as he took a sip. The older man’s gaze lingered on his daughter, who sat happily at the kitchen table. She kicked her legs gently underneath it, her head cocking back and forth happily as she ate her cereal. The older man couldn’t help but give a half-smile, watching her carefully. Charlotte was already dressed and ready for the day, wearing a honey gold dress, daisy white fringe decorating the hem. Mark gave a half-smile, his eyes lingering on the small assortment of bumblebees that could be seen seemingly flying around the dress. Charlotte simply continued eating happily, glancing around the apartment as she did, despite the fact that it was the same place she had lived in all her life; as if she had a reason to explore every nook and cranny again, just for the sake of having time. Mark took another sip of water; he knew well enough there would be coffee at the office, so he supposed he would have to wait until then. His phone was silent still, for the older man had stopped texting Ethan back.

The Mickey Mouse mug was a nice touch, he supposed, although he himself would have gone for the classy, _simple_ , porcelain shaded mug. Nevertheless, he took yet another sip of water, resting the glass aside when he was finished. He gave his daughter a loving look, noticing how she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, giggling softly. Mark folded his arms loosely across his chest, cocking his head slightly as he wore the same smile, something that hadn’t faded. It was almost impossible to frown around his daughter. “What’s so funny?” He questioned, chuckling softly when Charlotte simply shrugged her shoulders in return. “Well, when you remember, tell me,” Mark joked. The young girl nodded her head happily as she continued eating, her legs still kicking contently underneath the kitchen table. The older man continued to watch her for a few seconds. Her pigtails bounced slightly as she shifted, a light still flickering in her eyes. Oh, how Mark loved her. It was something that when he thought about for too long, it brought tears to his eyes. It was a feeling he had never experienced before; not until he had first held Charlotte in his arms. Not until he had gazed down her with such wonder and _realization_ that he himself had become a father, a role he had assumed as soon as he first held her. 

“You excited for Ethan to come over?” The older man continued gently. The young girl nodded her head happily again.

“I’m gonna show him all my stuffed animals,” Charlotte declared proudly. Mark simply chuckled in return, shaking his head gently in disbelief as he listened to her. “And…Imma draw you a picture. Me and him’ll draw one.” Mark nodded his head, listening contently as his daughter continued babbling on. “I’m gonna show him the fox and puppy movie.”

“ _The Fox and The Hound_?” Mark questioned, grinning when his daughter nodded in return. “Well, I’m sure he’s seen it before,” the older man continued, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he spoke. “ _But_ , I’m sure he would be more than happy to watch the movie with you. Ethan seems like a very nice man.” The young girl nodded her head in agreement, finally finishing up with her bowl of cereal. Mark hummed softly, carefully walking over to the kitchen table to retrieve the empty bowl. His daughter chirped out a soft ‘thank you’ in return, shifting in her seat before sliding off of the chair. Mark smiled at her simply, watching how she straightened her dress. The young girl slid around slightly on her socks for a few seconds, grinning proudly.

“I don’t even needa put shoes on,” Charlotte mentioned proudly, her father chuckling softly in return, nodding his head in return. Mark turned on his heels, walking over to the sink. He supposed he had nothing better to do than wash it; saving it for later would just be foolish. “Does Ethan needa put shoes on?”

“Well, I’d assume he needs to have shoes on when he walks over,” Mark mentioned, stifling his laughter to talk to his daughter, turning on the sink and proceeding to clean out the remains in the bowl. “The sidewalk is dirty, after all. We wouldn’t want him to get his socks all dirty.” The young girl hummed again in return. “If Ethan wants to keep his shoes on when he’s in the house, he can keep his shoes on. If he wants to take his shoes off, he can take them off. How does that sound?” His daughter simply giggled in return, which he could only assume was in a good light. Mark finished cleaning the bowl, reaching carefully for the cleaning rag. He dried the bowl off carefully, reaching up to open the cabinet and rest the bowl inside with the others. Mark supposed that Ethan would probably be there soon, considering he had mentioned he would be leaving his apartment a few minutes ago. The older man glanced down at his phone to see if he had any messages, just in case Ethan was confused with finding the address, but there didn’t seem to be anything. That was good.

“Daddy might be home a little later today,” Mark mentioned softly, shifting slightly on his feet. He remembered how he had mentioned to his daughter that hiring Ethan would bring nothing but getting off from work earlier…but with the promotions coming up, the older man would have to be attending a series of meetings. His boss insisted that would be the proper way to get noticed; to attend meetings. Mark glanced at his daughter, giving her a sympathetic look when she frowned in return. “I know, honey, I said I would be home earlier,” he admitted, biting his lip as he glanced around the apartment. “ _But_ , something very important came up. I have to go to some very important meetings to make my boss happy, and to make my _boss’s_ boss happy. They would be very angry with me if I didn’t go to the meetings. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” His daughter stood there for a few seconds before slowly shaking her head.

“That’s a good girl,” Mark praised. “I promise that this won’t happen too often. In fact, if I _go_ to the meetings, there’s a chance that I’ll be able to get out of work even earlier than normal.”

“Promise?” Charlotte squeaked. The older man let out a soft sigh, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he held his sympathetic gaze. Hesitantly, Mark walked over to his daughter, standing in front of her before he knelt down gently, slightly above eye-level. His daughter looked at him shyly, shifting and holding her hands behind her back. “Promise?” Charlotte questioned again.

“I can’t really promise anything,” Mark admitted, patting his daughter’s shoulder gently as she frowned. “It might not happen…I _hope_ it happens, honey. Believe me, I want to be home earlier just as much as you want me to be home earlier; but I’m not in charge of when I get to leave. My boss is, and my boss would be very upset if I didn’t go to the meetings he asked me to go to, or work the hours he suggested for me. I wanna make my boss happy so my boss will _like me_.”

“Friends?” Charlotte questioned.

“Well, not friends,” Mark returned. “Bosses and workers aren’t really friends. Daddy wants his boss to _respect_ him. Do you know what that word means?” The young girl paused for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding her head. “Well, that’s the truth. I want my boss to treat me like everyone else, and I can’t do that without earning his respect. I can earn his respect by going to the business meetings after work…but that means I end up coming home a little bit later than usual; only on a few days, though. Most nights, I’ll be home regular time, maybe even a few minutes earlier. The meetings won’t last forever, darling. That’s what I _can_ promise you. How does that sound, princess?” Charlotte gave a half-smile, a hesitant nod of her head following.

“Good,” she mentioned.

“Good,” Mark repeated back to her. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss against his daughter’s forehead before standing to his feet. He ruffled her hair carefully. “Now, honey, are your toys all picked up so it’s not a mess when Ethan gets here?” The young girl bit her lip, not saying anything. The older man simply chuckled in return, gesturing his hand to the hallway. “Why don’t you quickly go do that?”

Charlotte nodded. “Okay,” she said quickly, turning on her heels before rushing off to her bedroom to finish straightening up her toys, so they wouldn’t be on the floor. Mark chuckled softly, resting his hands on his hips as he watched her go. He shifted, walking over to the kitchen table; he pushed in his daughter’s chair, humming softly as he straightened up the kitchen. Mark supposed the both of them had something to clean up. The older man straightened his tie as he worked, reminding himself that he would have to grab his blazer from the kitchen chair when he was finished. Mark hummed gently underneath his breath, reaching for his phone and slipping it in his pocket so he wouldn’t forget it when he left. He hoped Ethan would show up soon.

∞§—————§∞

Ethan looked up from his phone hesitantly, shifting on his feet as he double-checked the number on the apartment complex with the one on his phone. The young man was always worried about those sorts of things…arriving at someone’s house and it only ended up being the wrong address. He supposed it would be the same with apartment buildings, considering he didn’t want to go to the wrong apartment complex, which would only lead him to the wrong apartment room. So, despite having already checked, the young man checked for a third time. Sure enough, just as they had been the previous times, the numbers were identical. Ethan gave a reassuring nod. He was there. Ethan pulled his jacket tighter around himself, feeing the breeze nipping ever so slightly at his nose and cheeks. Winter did that, he supposed. Nevertheless, he walked over to the entrance, glancing one more time at the number, just because he was always worried about that sort of thing, before entering. Yep, this was the right place. The young man glanced around the lobby carefully.

There weren’t many people there, of course. After all, it wasn’t exactly a hotel with people checking in and out. People _lived_ there. However, there were one or two people sitting in a chair, leaned back and reading a magazine. The young brunette averted his attention to finding the elevators, so he could get to Mark and Charlotte’s floor. Ethan hummed, knowing well enough he didn’t want to be awkwardly stumbling around for them, but he was too embarrassed to ask. The young man’s eyes finally lingered on a sign, leading him past the hallway. Ethan quickly averted his attention over, shifting the weight of his backpack from one shoulder to the other before hesitantly walking over. He was sure enough that to everyone else he was simply an awkward college kid, who hardly knew what he was doing there. Ethan glanced down at his phone, humming softly as he reached to message Mark. He supposed giving him a heads up that he was there would be more than acceptable, considering he didn’t want the older man to be stumbling over himself at the last second.

Ethan tapped on Mark’s contact, humming softly as he shifted in the hallway of the elevators, typing on his phone while simultaneously hoping that he wasn’t in anyone’s way.

> **E:** Just arrived at the lobby, for a heads up

Ethan reached over to the elevator button, pressing it gently before returning to his original position, waiting for the elevator to go to the lobby. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He had already messaged Sean the other day on how he was quitting, and he had gone over everything with Rebecca. Part of him was sad about it, he supposed. Well, not sad, but it made sense. That was really one of the only jobs he had managed to keep; it was the only job where he hadn’t been mercilessly fired after messing up. It was the first employment where he himself actually hadn’t messed up, despite everything. Sean hadn’t really been excited, although he had mentioned that he was happier for his friend, considering he would be getting better pay. That was really the only thing that mattered to Ethan, that and the fact that being able to babysit Charlotte surprisingly didn’t upset him. The two good things that came out of it were Charlotte and being able to pay his bills. He supposed part of him would miss being able to see Sean daily throughout shifts; as much as he knew well enough he would never admit it, he liked to believe that he and Rebecca had been simple friends. Not best friends, or anything…but they knew each other well enough.

> **M:** Awesome. Nice to know you didn’t get lost

Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter, rolling his eyes playfully. “Asshat,” he joked, slipping his phone back into his pocket once he was finished reading the message. The young brunette hummed contently when the elevator door opened. Surprisingly, there was no one else in it. Ethan stepped in hesitantly. He had always had a fear of elevators; just something about them was unsettling, especially the higher up they went. When he thought about it long enough, he supposed they were heavy boxes they held people…and were being held up by a few cables. He knew well enough that the cables were strong, of course, or else elevators wouldn’t be allowed to be used by the public…just the thought of crashing in an elevator, however, was always enough to put him on edge. Nevertheless, Ethan pressed the button to their floor, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he listened to the elevator release a soft dinging sound, the doors closing after a few seconds. Ethan leaned back against the wall of the elevator, looking up at the ceiling, his fingers carefully wrapping around the slight railing that trailed along the edge. The young brunette was a little bit excited now; work was never really something that thrilled him, but the first day of each job was always exciting. It was when the young man would be able to figure out if he appreciated it or not.

Ethan glanced down at his phone, his eyes lighting up slightly when he noticed the three dots pop up in Mark’s messages. He shifted, humming softly as he waited for the older man to finish typing.

> **M:** Be prepared for Charlotte to show you every stuffed animal she owns

Ethan gave a half-smile.

> **E:** I look forward to it

Ethan held his phone in his hand, since he knew well enough he would be double-checking the apartment room number as soon as he had reached it. A habit, he supposed. The young man shifted, his eyes lighting up when the elevator let out another ding, the doors opening simultaneously. Ethan paused a second before stepping out into the hallway, looking at the sign on the wall which directed him to which rooms were where. He glanced down at his phone, reviewing the original message that Mark had sent him, the one where all the information he needed could be found. 105B. Ethan gave a half nod, glancing up from his phone to the sign on the wall; after doing so, the young brunette took a sharp right, a slight bounce in his step as he walked. The young man glanced at the room numbers as he walked, taking mental note that the room would be on the right side, where the rest of the odd numbers were. Ethan shifted the weight of his backpack from one shoulder to the other, grinning contently when he found the room number. 105B. Of course, the young man made a point of checking again, just in case.

Ethan reached his fist over to the door, hesitantly knocking before drawing his hand back. The young man stood there awkwardly, not knowing how he was supposed to react when Mark opened the door. He supposed he was overthinking everything really. However, he simply found himself tensing up when the door opened, revealing the older man in his dress pants and a porcelain white button-down shirt. Despite how uncomfortable the young brunette had been for a slight second, he found himself relaxing when Mark wore a welcoming smile. “Uh, hi,” the young man said awkwardly, giving a half-smile. Mark simply chuckled in return.

“Hi,” the man repeated. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, come inside,” he mentioned, stepping aside so the younger man would have room to walk in. Ethan gave a small nod of his head in thanks before he stepped into the apartment. The young brunette glanced around hesitantly, giving a small smile. It was a bit bigger than his own apartment. It had a similar style, the living room leading into the kitchen and only really being divided by the couch. It was nice, though. Homey. Ethan’s attention was automatically grasped by the arrangement of Charlotte’s drawings that had been hung up proudly on the fridge. He noticed the colorful assortments of plastic cups that lined behind the sink. It was the little things in the apartment that seemed to bring it to life. A small bookshelf that was being used as a TV stand, which was filled with an assortment of Disney movies and picture books, a few crayons that were laying on the coffee table, beside a coloring book with a few pages ripped out, and a stuffed animal that had been placed carefully on the couch. “Sorry, I guess I should have cleaned the living room up a bit more,” Mark admitted awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he closed the door behind Ethan. “I had the time, I just didn’t-”

“No, I think the place looks nice,” Ethan mentioned reassuringly in return. “Homey.” Mark gave a small smile, nodding in return. “I like the drawings,” he continued, pointing to the fridge. He paused. “Did you do those all by yourself?” He joked. Mark glanced at him, giving a playful roll of his eyes and a nod of his head. The younger man stifled his laughter. “You’re quite the artist,” Ethan continued, humming softly. “ _Maybe_ I would believe you if your daughter didn’t sign her name in the corner of each of them.” Mark scoffed playfully.

“Is that what gave it away?” He joked, cocking his eyebrow slightly as he glanced at the younger man.

“Mhm,” Ethan mentioned, giggling a bit. The young brunette awkwardly shifted the weight of his backpack from one shoulder to the other, glancing at Mark carefully. “Um, is it alright if I put my backpack on the chair?” He questioned, glancing his head gently to one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Mark followed his gaze.

“Yeah, of course,” Mark mentioned. The young brunette was about to do it himself, since he was more than capable, but he watched as the older man reached over, grabbing at the boy’s backpack. Ethan reluctantly allowed the older man to take the bag from his shoulders. “Here, I got it,” the man hummed, lifting his backpack before moving it to an open kitchen chair. The young brunette glanced over his shoulder, watching him with a shy smile.

“Thanks,” Ethan managed.

“Oh, don’t mention it,” Mark chuckled in return, resting his hands on his hips once he had sent the backpack down. He gave a small pause before gesturing his Hand around the apartment. “Well, make yourself at home. You’re free to get a snack from the fridge, if you’d like. We have…. _water_.” Ethan chuckled softly, knowing well enough he had brought a water bottle of his own. “Oh, and we’ve got _plenty_ of old Disney movies. I haven’t touched any of those in a while, but I’m sure you would appreciate most of them.” Ethan gave a small nod and a half-smile. “I’ll give you a word of warning, Charlotte is going to introduce you to _The Fox and The Hound_. Otherwise known as the one with the fox and the puppy. She’s awful giddy after we watched it. Who knows? Maybe she’ll watch it twice in a row.” Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter.

“Well, I’ve never seen it before,” the young brunette mentioned in return.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” Mark returned, gesturing his head over to the TV. “That’ll probably be the first thing she makes you do.”

Ethan chuckled softly. “Well, I don’t mind,” he mentioned thoughtfully, shoving his hands in his pockets. “She’s adorable, after all. I couldn’t say no to anything she tells me, even if I _tried_. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, after all. She just gives you one of those looks, and you just can’t help but agree with absolutely anything that she has to say, even if it’s ridiculous or something you’re dreading.” Mark gave a reluctant nod, a grin growing on his face. “And I’m _sure_ Charlotte does it at home more than she does in the daycare center, I assume?”

“You assume correctly,” Mark returned. “Can’t say no to her.” 

“Well, today should be interesting then,” Ethan retorted, smiling softly. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard the sound of someone rushing into the hallway. His eyes crinkled a bit as he smiled, noticing Charlotte practically stumbling over herself as she rushed out of her room. “Speak of the Devil,” he joked, crouching down slightly as he watched the young girl rush over, giggling contently as she slid down the hallway on her socks. Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle softly, opening his arms slightly before the young girl rushed into them, giving him a hug. “Good morning to you, too,” Ethan joked, giving her a small hug. The young man glanced up at Mark hesitantly, a shy smile growing on his face. Mark simply chuckled, cocking his head slightly as he watched the two. Ethan pulled away after another second.

“Do ya wanna see my stuffed animals?” Charlotte exclaimed happily, her eyes lighting up. The young brunette couldn’t help but chuckle as he gave a small nod, standing to his feet.

“That sounds lovely,” Ethan mentioned, gesturing his head to Mark. “ _But_ , I think you should say goodbye to your daddy first. He has to go to work and he won’t be home until later.” The older man glanced back at the young brunette with a grateful smile, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly before he looked down at his daughter. Charlotte giggled softly, walking over to her father and hugging his legs. Mark crouched down, giving his daughter a hug, and the young man couldn’t help but smile. 

“Daddy’ll see you tonight, okay?” Mark said softly, pressing a gentle kiss against his daughter’s forehead.

“Okay,” Charlotte returned gently, smiling. Mark grinned, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder before he stood to his feet, straightening his shirt and tucking it in properly. Ethan watched sheepishly as he reached for his blazer, tugging it on and buttoning one of the buttons. The young man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing at Charlotte.

“Well, I guess I’m needed elsewhere,” Mark joked, giving a half-grin. He turned to Ethan. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to shoot me a text, alright?” The young brunette nodded in understanding. “If there’s an emergency, call me. If I’m running later than expected, I’ll text you. I’ll drop by the ATM today and pay you when I get back, alright?” Ethan nodded again.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Alright, perfect,” Mark mentioned. He grinned jokingly. “Don’t burn the house down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for so much support on these chapters. It's so nice seeing familiar usernames and profile pictures in the comments. I have so many plot points that I'm excited to reach, so I hope you don't mind more chapters than a usual fic would have. I'm having a wonderful time writing this. I'm so excited to build on Ethan and Mark's friendship to relationship, and work a bit more on their character arches. 
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply!


	12. Reading Between the Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Don't worry guys, I didn't forget about this. I just got a little bit busy with everything, so I decided to take a small break. I suppose this chapter could have come out sooner, but I didn't want to rush it. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy.
> 
> (I am also proud to announce that Baby of Mine and Fifty Feet in the Air hold the top 2 highest word counts. I feel like BoM will definitely pass FFitA)

“Whatcha wanna do now?” Charlotte giggled curiously, shifting on the floor and reaching for one of her stuffed animals. The young brunette smiled. The two of them had managed to go through all of her stuffed animals, where Ethan had listened patiently to what kind of animal they are, even if it was obvious, what their names were, how she got them, proceeded by if they were one of their favorites. How anyone could manage to remember the names of over twenty stuffed animals was personally beyond Ethan, but he never questioned it. Instead, the young man had simply sat on the floor, leaning back on the palms of his hands and listening carefully, making comments once in a while to clarify names, or just to show that he was paying attention. It was something that Ethan would usually consider boring…but it almost wasn’t. All because Charlotte was the one explaining so happily about every little thing, even if it was trivial. Of course, there were now stuffed animals scattered all over the young girl’s carpet, but Ethan knew well enough that she didn’t mind. After all, it would be a simple clean up; nothing like spilled juice.

Ethan glanced down at the time on his phone. 8:45 PM. The day had really brought nothing but excitement, if he had to be completely honest. Although, he hadn’t expected Mark to be taking this long at work. He knew well enough that the older man had a business meeting, which he had messaged him about prior, just so he wouldn’t be alarmed when he showed up late…but he hadn’t expected him to be gone for that long. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be something that happened often. Not like the young brunette had anything to do, of course. Charlotte didn’t seem to mind, either, and she always managed to find a way to fill the hours, whether it was sorting through stuffed animals, drawing a picture together, which they had placed proudly on the fridge, watching a movie, or simply looking through a few picture books. The young brunette had promised the girl that he would take her to the park on a later day, just as soon as he checked with Mark if he was allowed to do that. It was harmless enough, of course, but the young brunette wanted to double-check; after all, Mark _was_ her father, and he supposed he _did_ know what was best for her.

Ethan supposed that he could start sending pictures of Charlotte to her father throughout the day, whether it was something interesting she was doing or just a small update on how she was. It just felt weird, he supposed, especially considering how it was almost unwarranted. Well, not _unwarranted_ …just not expected. The young brunette guessed he would just ask Mark about it when he got home; after all, the young man himself would have felt something awful if he had to leave a kid of his own home alone for the entire day with someone he barely knew. Not just because Mark barely knew him of course…Ethan just assumed that leaving his daughter home alone, in general, would be stressful in him…not being able to be there. Not being able to see her do anything throughout the day, even if it was something as trivial as drawing a picture or sorting through a series of picture books…it must have put a lot of weight on her father’s shoulders. At least, Ethan could only imagine. Charlotte hardly seemed to mind, of course; not that it was obvious she would rather have her father around…it just seemed as if she had learned to live without it. Learn to live without her father there constantly…without her _mother_ there at all.

The young brunette couldn’t understand, and would probably _never_ understand, how Charlotte was able to live without her mother there; a relationship with a mother just seemed like something every daughter should have…every _child_ should have. Ethan couldn’t imagine what his own childhood would have been like with an absence of his mother. She had always been there at the house with him…loving him, and doing everything that a mother should for her children. Although Ethan couldn’t remember the last time he had been on good terms with his parents, he knew well enough that life without them would have been nearly impossible when he was younger. His mother had helped shape his upbringing, and the role he had assumed as he grew…even if the young brunette had seemingly taken it for granted. Nevertheless, Ethan couldn’t imagine how a girl so young could manage to go through it…he supposed part of it was _because_ she was so young when everything happened. Losing her mother at a young age meant not having enough full memories of her to remember…not enough memories to hold on to and mourn the loss of. 

It wasn’t a topic that could easily be discussed, of course; after all, Charlotte was so young. It wouldn’t be right to force a question like that onto a child. He supposed it wasn’t something he himself was comfortable talking about with Mark, either, even if he was an adult. It was a touchy subject in _general_ , something Ethan wanted to know more about…but he knew he couldn’t question, as unfortunate as it was. He supposed it wasn’t something he _needed_ to be educated on, though…none of his business. Any question would be unwarranted, and it wasn’t important as to why he was there. He was there to babysit and look after Charlotte…not to attempt to find a deeper meaning to anything. It wasn’t important…maybe if he ended up being _friends_ with Mark, he could insinuate a few things. Until then, of course, Ethan supposed that being oblivious to things wasn’t exactly anything _bad_. Part of him wasn’t even certain if he and the older man would _become_ friends. Maybe it was all in his head, of course.

“Well,” Ethan returned to the young girl gently, pausing as he glanced thoughtfully around the room. His eyes lingered on the stuffed animals scattered across the floor, of course; it was impossible not to notice. The young brunette couldn’t help but chuckle as he shifted his weight, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “I think it would be best if we _start_ cleaning up all your stuffed animals. As much as I _love_ them, I think they would all be happier if they got put back correctly, don’t you agree?” Charlotte giggled softly, not yet saying anything as she smiled. “I know if _I_ were a stuffed animal, I wouldn’t wanna be left out on the floor. Besides, I think you and I can both agree that your daddy doesn’t wanna trip on any of them when he tucks you in.” Charlotte nodded in agreement, shifting over and reaching for one of her stuffed animals, pulling it into her lap the next second.

“Nu-uh,” she mentioned thoughtfully, holding the stuffed animal in her lap for a few seconds before she shifted over to the woven basket not far from her, dropping it in carefully. Ethan smiled gently at the younger girl as he watched her gingerly reach for another stuffed animal, holding it carefully before lightly placing them one after the other into the basket; almost as if she would be physically hurting them if she held them tightly. The young brunette found it adorable, of course…most of the things Charlotte did were adorable, especially when she didn’t even notice. Ethan watched her for a few seconds, humming contently before he reached over, proceeding to help her. “Leave the chick and the bunny out,” the young girl reminded him gently, gesturing her head to the two stuffed animals she didn’t wanna be placed away. “Those two go on my bed.” Charlotte glanced over from her pile of stuffed animals to her closet, hesitantly pointing over gently. “They protect me from the monsters in there…and under my bed. I never see ‘em…but they’re there. The nightlight protects me, too. Daddy says there aren’t any monsters, but that’s a lie.”

Ethan chuckled softly, giving a playful roll of her eyes as he rested the chick and the bunny aside, reminding himself not to put them away. “Well, I think your daddy’s right,” he mentioned thoughtfully, glancing at the closet. “You don’t gotta worry about any of that scary stuff; monsters aren’t real, I promise. I used to be afraid of the dark, too, when I was your age. I was afraid that the _shadows_ would come to life and kidnap me.” Charlotte gave a sheepish giggle, as if it was the silliest thing in the world. “Stupid right?”

“A lil bit,” Charlotte giggled.

“Uh-huh, believe me, I know,” Ethan mentioned, a half-smile visible on his face as he shifted. “I used to sleep with a nightlight too, when I was little…but I grew out of it eventually. Everyone does. One day, you won’t be afraid of the dark anymore…in fact, you’ll learn to like the dark. _I_ like the dark.” Charlotte gave him a simple look of wonder, almost as if the thought surprised her; Ethan was sure it did, of course. Liking the dark surely wasn’t something that ever child imagined they would be able to do. “You should ask your daddy to check the closets for you before you go to bed…then, you won’t have to use a nightlight anymore.” Charlotte shook her head hesitantly.

“Nu-uh, monsters are afraid of the light,” she insisted. Ethan gave a half-smile.

“Monsters aren’t real, honey,” the young brunette mentioned softly. He gave a half-smile, saying nothing more as he continued to help the young girl put away her stuffed animals. Ethan looked down at each of them gently, noticing how new each of them seemed. “Did your daddy buy you most of these?” He questioned thoughtfully, glancing at the young girl out of the corner of her eye. Charlotte couldn’t help but smile as she gave a hesitant nod of her head, reaching for one and looking down at it happily. It was a simple teddy bear with a cerulean blue ribbon tied carefully around its neck. “That one your favorite?”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte returned. “My fox one is my favorite.”

Ethan cocked his eyebrow, his eyes scanning thoughtfully across the series of stuffed animals that remained, remembering which ones the young girl had placed in the basket. He didn’t _see_ any stuffed fox. However, he didn’t question what the young girl said. “Foxes are cute,” he mentioned in return, the young girl nodding her head in agreement. “I like this bunny one though,” he continued, reaching over carefully to the pearl white stuffed bunny, paired with a flamingo pink nose. Charlotte giggled, crawling over to the young man carefully so that she was sitting directly beside him, looking at the bunny as well. “What’s its name again?”

“Her name’s Pinky,” Charlotte replied gently. Ethan smiled. Original, he supposed. She reached for the stuffed animal before returned it in the basket, doing so with the rest of her stuffed animals. Ethan smiled softly as he watched her carefully. “Wanna see a cool picture book?” The young girl questioned thoughtfully, a grin growing on her face, her eyes lighting up. Ethan cocked an eyebrow slightly, chuckling softly in return from her reaction. Surely it must have been quite an exciting picture book if she was so interested in it. “My daddy says it’s a picture album, I think. It’s got pictures of me and him in it. He showed it to me the other night. It’s really cool.” Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter when he realized what the young girl was talking about. A _photo album_. As in, pictures that the family must have collected over the years and had decided to put together. He was sure it was exciting, sure…although he couldn’t imagine how it would exactly be _entertaining_ to look through. After all, they weren’t really memories that he himself could relate to…of course, Ethan wouldn’t complain. Charlotte being happy w as more than enough for him; he wouldn’t second guess anything she wanted to do.

“Alright,” Ethan returned simply, giving a shrug of his shoulders and a half-smile. Charlotte grinned happily, sitting up a bit in return. “Do you know where it is?” The young brunette questioned lightly, leaning on his right palm, humming underneath his breath as he waited for a retort. Charlotte nodded her head. “Can you go get it?” He continued. The young girl smiled, nodding her head eagerly as she shifted again, pulling herself to her feet. Ethan stood up after a few seconds to stretch his legs, arching his back slightly. “We can look through it on the couch,” he mentioned thoughtfully, following after the young girl as she toddled out of her bedroom with excitement, obviously eager to look through and show him the photo album. It was awfully cute, the young man had to admit it, although he wasn’t exactly certain what he was supposed to expect looking through a photo album of pictures he most likely knew nothing about. Nevertheless, he trailed behind the young girl, glancing at the photos that were framed on the walls, giving a small smile. All of them were photographs that included Charlotte; thoughtful of her father, he supposed.

Ethan shifted over to the couch in the living room, hesitantly sitting down. He remembered the older man had reminded him to make himself at home, but it was always something he was uncomfortable with; being able to relax at a stranger’s house was never something that had come easy for him. The young brunette sat there awkwardly for a few seconds before he finally un-tensed his shoulders, leaning back against the couch as he watched the young girl look through the bookshelf underneath the TV. Ethan hummed softly, glancing around the living room with mere interest. As he had noticed before, it was homey; a few toys were scattered around, but he didn’t mind. It was almost a nice touch, if anything. It reminded him of his own home when he was younger, in a nice sort of way. Nevertheless, Ethan shifted on the couch, smiling softly as he watched Charlotte retrieve a photo album, grinning happily as she went over to the couch, resting it down beside him. The young girl reluctantly crawled onto the couch afterward, pushing the photo album into the young man’s lap. “Thank you,” he mentioned thoughtfully, a smile following as he looked down at it. “Are there any pictures, in particular, you want me to see? Or should I just start flipping through?”

Charlotte gave a shrug, as if she wasn’t too sure herself. The young man glanced down at the book, hesitantly opening to the first page. He glanced at Charlotte before he looked down at the page. The feeling was a bit odd, he supposed, although he found it cute being able to see pictures of the young girl when she was even younger. “I didn’t think you got any younger,” the young brunette joked, Charlotte giggling a bit. Ethan cocked his head slightly as he looked down at the pictures, a half-smile as he noticed one of Mark holding her, tears in his eyes. It was awfully cute to look at, that was for sure. He felt the young girl gently press up against his shoulder as he looked down at the photo album. “You probably don’t remember most of these, huh?” He asked thoughtfully, glancing down at her with a soft smile.

Charlotte gave a small shake of her head “Nu-uh,” she returned in confirmation. “I was too little.”

“That’s fair,” Ethan mentioned. “I don’t remember anything from when I was your age or younger, either. Little bits of pieces, but not enough to give a full story…I’m sure I would remember a few things if I had a photo album of my own…my mom has a few at her house. I never looked through them when I was younger; I guess I should have. Maybe one of these days I’ll be able to look through one of ‘em…she sure has a lot of them, though. I don’t know how she found the time to make all of them, or how she managed to take that many pictures. Wedding photos and stuff…photos of me when I was a baby.”

“You were a baby?” Charlotte asked curiously.

The young brunette chuckled. “Uh-huh,” he confirmed, letting out another huff of laughter as he ran a hand through his hair. “That was a long time ago, though. I couldn’t tell you anything about it, even if I tried.” The young girl smiled a bit before she returned her gaze onto the page, pointing down to one of the pictures. 

“Purple,” she mentioned gently. Ethan followed her gaze, looking to the photograph she was pointing to. He gave a half-smile, followed by a simple nod of his head. She was pointing to a picture of her when she was younger, where she could be seen wrapped in a purple blanket. “That’s my favorite color, I think,” she continued. Ethan chuckled softly from her comment, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “I dunno, though…pink is pretty too. And blue.”

“My favorite color is blue,” Ethan returned, giving a half smile. “Kinda like a sky blue, though, not a dark blue. If that makes any sense.” Charlotte nodded in understanding, shifting on the couch. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, looking up at the man.

“How come you don’t get hungry?” The young girl asked gently, her question off topic to the conversation at hand; of course, most questions from children were often unrelated to the matter at hand. They really did question the darnedest things…but this was a real question. Ethan glanced down at her hesitantly, his eyes softening a bit in return from the question. Charlotte looked up at him curiously, obviously waiting for an answer. The young man looked down at his hands for a few seconds; he supposed he hadn’t really eaten anything for the entire day not even lunch…and he _supposed_ that it had become obvious to the younger girl. “Is it a superpower or somethin?” Charlotte continued, her eyes lighting up slightly. Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter, a sad smile on his face as he gave a shrug of his shoulders in return. “My daddy said you don’t grow strong if you don’t eat.”

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve already finished growing,” Ethan admitted, a simple shrug of his shoulders following. He paused, hesitantly biting his lip as he attempted to think of something else to say. “You should eat when you’re hungry, though,” he reminded the young girl, not wanting to allow himself to be a bad influence to someone who didn’t fully understand _why_ he wasn’t eating. “It’s not really a superpower or anything, I guess. Super powers are supposed to be _cool_ …helpful. I dunno. If I were to pick a super power, it certainly wouldn’t be the ability to not be hungry.” Charlotte paused, thinking for a few seconds. “Anyway, it doesn’t really matter that much. You don’t gotta worry about it.”

“ _Do you_ get hungry?” Charlotte asked curiously. Ethan bit his lip.

“Of course,” he returned simply, trying not to put much into it. “Everybody gets hungry.” The young girl went to open her mouth, but Ethan continued. “I just…sometimes I… _don’t_ eat because I’m… _busy_.” He gave Charlotte an awkward look, opening his mouth to continue, but not words came out. “You understand that, right?” The young girl paused, shrugging her shoulders. “Well, like I said…it’s nothing you gotta worry about. Promise.” Charlotte smiled a bit.

“Wanna snack?” She offered thoughtfully.

Ethan bit his lip. “I’m alright,” he insisted reassuringly, recomposing himself and simply clearing his throat. 

“But you’re not busy,” Charlotte mentioned softly.

“We’re looking at the photo album, though. Aren’t we?” Ethan returned; part of him felt as if he was stalling, although he didn’t know why. It was just a _snack_. The young girl frowned, shrugging her shoulders. “Besides, I’m not that hungry,” he lied, patting her shoulder reassuringly. “You don’t gotta worry about any of that.”

“You didn’t pack a lunch, though,” Charlotte retorted, a frown still visible on her face as she looked at him. “Not even a snack or nothin. Did you forget to pack one? Do you wanna fruit cup?” Ethan gave her a sympathetic look before shaking his head. Part of him felt naturally bad, of course. How couldn’t he feel bad? It was just…hard to explain, he supposed. Besides, the young brunette didn’t want to start giving Charlotte any ideas. Not like she would take after them, of course; children didn’t have the mindset to _do_ that. At least, Ethan didn’t think so. “What about a granola bar? My daddy bought some of those.” Ethan opened his mouth to say no, but Charlotte leaned on him again, in that way she always did…looking at him the way she did. One of these days Ethan would have to find a way to stop that from working, but he supposed today wasn’t the day. After all, the young brunette could hardly imagine having to say no to her…the young man wasn’t even sure how he had been able to do it once already.

“Maybe…just _one_ ,” Ethan admitted hesitantly, giving an awkward smile as Charlotte smiled happily in return, her eyes lighting up brightly. The young brunette couldn’t help but smile, despite himself, although this really seemed to be the last thing he wanted to be doing. Ethan couldn’t help but admit that he was a little hungry…as much as he _hated_ admitting it. That was never really something he had intentionally admitted to someone in a while; after all, that usually meant that they would offer him something afterward, and that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. “Just this once though, okay? I probably won’t ask for anything on a later date, got it?” Charlotte gave a half nod of her head, slipping off of the couch eagerly. The young brunette gave a grateful smile, his eyes lingering on the young girl as she walked happily to the kitchen. He supposed he would never understand how someone so young could be so understanding…Ethan didn’t complain though. It was something the young man honestly appreciated. So, he sat there nonetheless, his gaze returning to the photo album in his arms after the next second.

“Uh, peanut butta or chocolate?” Charlotte asked curiously.

Ethan’s eyes shot up from the album. “Chocolate,” he replied quickly, his voice firm. The young girl glanced back at him, cocking her head slightly from his tone. “Sorry,” he apologized the next second, running a hand awkwardly through his hair. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset or anything. I’m just allergic to peanuts.”

“Oh,” Charlotte replied. She paused. “I dunno what that means.”

Ethan gave a half-smile. “Well, I can’t eat peanuts,” he explained. He thought about it for a few seconds. “They make me…” his voice trailed off. The young brunette supposed telling a child that he could _die_ from eating something wasn’t exactly the best idea. “…really really sick,” Ethan continued. “I can’t eat ‘em, or else I gotta go to the hospital.” Charlotte let out a soft ‘oh’ of curiosity, pausing before she reluctantly sifted her hand through the cabinet. Ethan hummed softly, looking back down at the photo album before turning the page. His eyes scanned over the page contently, a small smile growing on his face with mere interest. After a few seconds, the young girl was back with two granola bars, both chocolate; one for her and one for him.

“I got one, too,” Charlotte chirped happily. “I was gonna get the other, but you don’t wanna get sick. That would be bad.” The young man chuckled softly, reluctantly accepting the granola bar. He looked down at it for a few seconds, making sure to double-check the label, before carefully tearing open the packaging. The young girl did the same, happily taking a bite. Ethan pursed his lips slightly as he looked down at his granola bar thoughtfully. However, he reluctantly took a bite; it was a small one, of course, but he supposed it was something. Ethan flipped the page of the photo album with his free hand, looking down at the pages.

“Oh, look,” Charlotte said softly, a small smile on her face as she pointed down to one of the pictures. The young brunette followed her gaze, looking down at the photograph she was pointing to. Ethan peered down at it. He could see Mark, as well as Charlotte…but there was another woman there too. Was that…? “That’s my mommy,” the young girl chirped in explanation. Ethan’s eyes widened slightly as he looked down at the woman in the photograph, not sure what he was supposed to say. The young girl mentioned it so casually…but he didn’t want to say anything yet. Just didn’t… _feel right_.

“Oh,” Ethan mentioned in return, pausing slightly. “That’s… _cool_.”

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte mentioned. “My daddy says he doesn’t got any other pictures of her, so there’s just the one.” The young brunette listened with interest, cocking his eyebrow slightly as she spoke. “I hope I look like her when I grow up…she’s really pretty.” Ethan gave a half-smile, a hesitant nod of his head. Part of him didn’t want to instigate anything, of course…but the other part of him was just insanely curious; almost as if he couldn’t help it. For a few seconds, though, he didn’t say anything. He just looked down at the page, studying the photograph with interest.

“Does…your daddy have a girlfriend?” Ethan asked hesitantly, biting his lip. The young girl gave a shake of her head. The young man gave a half nod of his head, proving that he had acknowledged the statement. He didn’t ask anything else, of course. As much as he wanted to know, he reminded himself that it was none of his business. Ethan didn’t _need_ to know anything about Mark’s personal life. Asking anything about it just seemed… _wrong_.

“My daddy tried going to the park with a girl once,” Charlotte mentioned. The young man said nothing. “Another time he went with a boy. My daddy said that it ‘didn’t work out’ though. I dunno what that means, though.” Ethan cocked an eyebrow slightly, his heart shuttering in his chest.

“Is your daddy bisexual?” He questioned, glancing at the young girl.

Charlotte looked up at him with confusion. “I dunno what that means,” she returned simply, a small shrug of her shoulders following. The young brunette let out a soft huff of laughter. “Is is bad?” Ethan chuckled softly, giving a simple shake of his head in reassurance. “Well…I dunno,” she continued in a squeak, taking another bite of her granola bar. The young man gave a nod in return, sheepishly taking another bite from his granola bar as well. Part of him found it adorable how the young girl didn’t seem to _mind_ the thought of her father finding both men and women attractive…the innocence of it all, she supposed. The young girl had never been taught that liking _both_ was something uncommon…something seemingly frowned upon by a handful of people. Ethan found it nice, of course. He wished more people in the world could be like that…Charlotte viewed her father as simply her father; she didn’t seem to care who he liked, or why he liked a certain person. It was all the same to her, he supposed. Just another date. Just another stroll in the park for her father that she would think nothing else of, not even caring if it was with a man or a woman.

“Do you like going to the beach?” The young man questioned, gesturing his head down to the photos. The young girl smiled, nodding her head a bit.

“We don’t go that much anymore,” Charlotte mentioned, giving a simple shrug go her shoulders. “I like the sand, tho. My daddy and I build castles. He doesn’t know how to make ‘em look as pretty as I make ‘em, but he’s still good.” Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter in return, a half-smile growing on his face. The young man looked back down at the page, admiring the photos of Charlotte and Mark standing by the water. The young brunette could only assume that Mark’s girlfriend had been taking the photos…and he could only assume that the missing photographs in the album were ones that had included her. Ethan didn’t dare mention it though; from what it seemed, Charlotte didn’t really have any idea why her mother was missing so frequently from the photo album. Nevertheless, Ethan kept his gaze focused on the page, not mentioning anything as he felt Charlotte pressed up against his shoulder again, humming contently underneath her breath.

Ethan felt his eyes being dragged away from the page as soon as he heard the sound of a key turning in a lock. His eyes lit up slightly as he watched the knob of the door to the apartment turn slightly; Mark was obviously back. He could feel Charlotte sitting up on the couch, obviously excited. Within seconds, of course, the front door was open and, just as Ethan had suspected, Mark was standing on the other side. Charlotte squealed happily, practically throwing herself off of the couch so she could race over to her father. Ethan tensed up slightly before he quickly slammed shut the photo album, pushing it aside on the couch. It wasn’t that he _didn’t_ want to be caught looking through a photo album…it just felt slightly awkward. Nevertheless, he tensed up slightly, sitting up on the couch as he watched Charlotte rush over to her father, obviously excited. The young brunette couldn’t help but smile as he watched the older man drop his briefcase to the side, crouching down so he could hug his daughter. Mark was awfully sweet to her, and Ethan was sure that no man on Earth could deny it. 

Ethan stood up hesitantly as he watched Charlotte give her father a hug, Mark glancing up from her and looking at him. The young brunette gave an awkward smile, scratching the back of the neck as he stepped over hesitantly. “Uh, hi,” he said, giving a half-smile. Mark smiled kindly in return, his eyes softening. Ethan found himself becoming less tense as he took another step over. “Uh, I was just…Charlotte was…” he reached over hesitantly to the photo album, grabbing it to show the older man. “She wanted to, uh, show me this. Um, a photo album.” Mark chuckled softly in return.

“Glad to see she kept you entertained,” he replied casually, standing to his feet and resting his hands carefully on his hips. The young man smiled in return, a real smile, giving a reluctant nod of his head. “Sorry for showing up so late. I didn’t think the meeting was going to take that long. Believe me, I would have texted you or something, but I was just in the middle of everything and…” his voice trailed off. “I’m probably getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?” The young man laughed softly.

“Mhm,” Ethan replied. “Don’t worry, looking after her is the easiest thing in the world.” Mark smiled in return, glancing down at his daughter pridefully from the compliment she was given. “I will say, though, I had to babysit her _stuffed animals_ as well. And, let me just say, Pinky can act up a bit.” Mark gave a playful roll of his eyes, a soft huff of laughter escaping his lips. The young brunette smiled simply. It was weird…he didn't feel as uncomfortable as he first had. Talking to Mark was a breeze, he had to admit. At first, it always seemed like the impossible…but he really didn’t mind it much the more he got to talking. It became seemingly natural…as if he had known Mark for more than a few days. “But really, Charlotte is awfully sweet.”

“Well, I’m glad she didn’t give you any trouble,” Mark replied gently, his voice sincere. “I’d like to think she would _never_ ,” he continued teasingly, glancing down at his daughter. “But you never know.” Charlotte giggled sheepishly, leaning against her father gently. The older man patted her head in return, humming softly. His eyes widened after a few seconds. “Shit, I forgot to go to the ATM,” he blurted out, running a hand through his hair. Charlotte glanced up at him. “Don’t repeat that,” he managed quickly, glancing at Ethan. “I…I don’t have the money to pay you today. I’m super sorry.”

“No, no, no, it’s okay,” Ethan insisted quickly, giving a half-smile. 

“I’ll remember tomorrow, I promise,” Mark returned, an embarrassed smile visible on his face as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Believe me, this isn’t some pathetic attempt of trying to get away with not paying…I’m afraid I don’t think ahead that much.” The young brunette chuckled softly in return. “I’ll pay you double tomorrow, I swear on it.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Ethan mentioned.

“Thanks,” Mark retorted gratefully, letting out a soft sigh of relief. The older man closed the door behind him, shifting as he picked up his briefcase, just so it wasn’t resting so close to the door. “Uh, so…same time tomorrow?” He continued, a hopeful smile on his face as he glanced at Ethan. “Believe me, you probably won’t be here as long. I don’t have any meetings that I have to worry about, so staying at the job later isn’t anything _I_ gotta worry about.” The younger man smiled, giving a reassuring nod in return to confirm that he _would_ in fact be there same time tomorrow.

“I was wondering if I could take Charlotte to the park tomorrow,” Ethan suggested hopefully, Mark giving a half-smile in return. “Just so she doesn’t have to stay cooped up in the house all day, you know? As much as I love sorting through stuffed animals and looking at almost every picture book imaginable, I’m sure that doing the exact same thing would get boring.” The young brunette cleared his throat. “Believe me, I’ll make sure _neither_ of us gets into any trouble or anything. Promise.” Mark smiled reluctantly, glancing down at Charlotte.

“Sounds like a plan,” the older man replied, smiling.

Ethan grinned. “Thanks,” he returned. He walked over to the kitchen, humming softly as he reached for his backpack, slinging it onto his shoulders. The young man let out a soft sigh, smiling. “I guess I’d better get going,” he mentioned. “It’s awfully late and all…not that I’m not a fan of walking out in the city at night; it’s just awfully cold when you’re out there for too long.”

“Believe me, I know what you’re talking about,” Mark mentioned. He hummed softly, taking a step back to open the door for the younger man. “I’ll message you in the morning, okay? Just in case, you know, you wanna go over something.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ethan repeated, grinning. He gave another heavy breath, waving goodbye to Charlotte, before eventually leaving the apartment. The young man sighed contently. He was starting to think he liked this job better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think of the chapter? To get back into the swing of things, I just did something simple as a quick way of explaining a few bits of the plot that will be important for the future. One thing I wanted to include was definitely how open Charlotte is to sexuality, even if she doesn't know what it means. Having Mark be openly bisexual in this fic was something I was excited for, just because I feel like Fifty Feet in the Air came with two practically closeted characters.  
> I also love being able to write dialogue for Ethan and Charlotte, or Ethan and Mark. It really shows how a character's mood and the way they speak shifts when they're talking to someone else.
> 
> Anyway, I'm glad to be back. Thank you guys so much for the support, even when I was away.  
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply
> 
> (Also, just because I'm genuinely curious. For anyone who read Fifty Feet in the Air, what was your favorite chapter and why? I think I might start including little questions like these at the end of notes. I like getting to know the personalities of the people who read my fics :D )


	13. Loving Naturally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys!  
> I'm not dead!  
> And neither are you guys, apparently, which is why I wanna thank you guys sososo much for....
> 
> \- 30 user subscriptions  
> \- 3000 Hits  
> \- 200 Kudos  
> \- 30 bookmarks
> 
> AAAAA  
> Anyways, getting on with the chapter. There's a fair bit of foreshadowing down here, and a few bits of pieces that will be needed for later chapters. Thank you guys so much for being so patient with me.

Mark hummed softly, letting out an exhale of relief as he unbuttoned the button of his blazer, running a hand through his hair soon afterward. The older man supposed he had been thrown through the wringer at work, especially considering how long the meeting had dragged on for…he surely hadn’t expected it, that was for sure. Of course, no one had told him how long the meeting was going to be…Mark hadn’t even really known what the meeting was _about_ in the first place. Something related to the promotion, that was all he had been told. At least, that was what his boss had told him. And, of course, Mark would listen to anything that his boss told him…as long as it meant he would be able to get paid more for working less…as long as it meant he would be able to spend more of the day with his daughter. Obviously, Mark knew well enough that spending almost the entire day and night at work wasn’t exactly ideal; after all, the older man had stayed at work until past _nine_. That was never something that the man had _ever_ wanted to do…being away from his daughter for so long _hurt_.

Mark knew that everything he was doing at work, which included staying overtime to attend a meeting, would help him inch closer to the promotion he had been pining over for so long. He knew that every second he stayed at a meeting, his boss’s boss would begin to notice him…begin to realize how Mark was putting so much of his time and effort into his job, and how he had been constantly overlooked. God, that was the part that got Mark the most. Being _overlooked_. It happened constantly…it just felt like all of the potential that he _knew_ he had was being wasted, and all because no one bothered to spare him a second glance. The fact that it wasn’t even his _fault_ was what made his blood boil…it would be one thing if he just didn’t work to his full potential; if he just leaned back in his chair for the entire day, his hands folded behind his head and his feet propped up on the desk, as if he didn’t have anything to do. _No_. Mark did everything his boss told him to do. He worked when he was told to work, and when he was told he should take a break for lunch…the man would keep on working. That was just how he functioned; the older man knew that if he wasn’t living up to his full potential, then he wasn’t living.

Mark didn’t want to make a fool of himself…he didn’t want to _grovel_ at his boss’s feet for the mere thought of a promotion. The older man liked to believe that he had even an ounce of self-respect left in him, despite the times he had disregarded his own emotions just to know it would make his boss content. Every time the man had insisted that he didn’t need to take a break, because he knew his boss would be _somewhat_ impressed. Well, sort of. Mark’s boss was never really impressed with anything he had to do, even though the man _knew_ that Mark worked his ass off. He _knew_ …he just didn’t care. No one ever seemed to care. They just glanced the other way…looked to someone who wasn’t even doing as well, and made sure _they_ received a promotion instead. All of it was bullshit; that was the only thing Mark could say about it. Mark tried not to think about it too much…he knew it would only lead him spiraling down with disappointment in himself and the business he worked for, which he didn’t want. The older man wanted to be proud of his position, even though it was hardly anything he could brag about.

It wasn’t like the man _wanted_ to brag about his job, of course. It was just…telling someone that he worked for the entire day, never getting to spend enough time with his daughter…never getting to be home when he wanted…it wasn’t something he was proud of. Not having someone he loved at home who could watch her out of the kindness of their heart because they _loved_ Mark, and they loved Charlotte. No. He didn’t have that. Part of Mark was unsure if he _ever_ had that…or if it was just never real. The older man shook the thought away, of course. Part of him liked to believe that Kaitlyn had truly loved him enough before the… _incident_. He supposed that not having it was… _beneficial_. Mark wasn’t completely sure, but part of him felt like _loving_ someone else was almost impossible. After all, who would want him? He was a _father_ …no one wanted that, and the older man knew that well enough. It almost wasn’t fair, but the man hardly complained. All he needed was his daughter, and he was sure of that. That was all he could say, and that was all he could remind himself. All he needed was Charlotte….all he needed was his daughter…he didn’t need anyone else, because no one else would love him anyway. It wasn’t the most content of thoughts, but he supposed reminding himself would be helpful. 

Mark had really stopped looking for a date a few months ago…he was just tired of everything that came with it. Meeting new people always came with attempting to explain that he had a daughter…which would always be followed by them utterly confused, and giving an awkward expression as they tried to push through the rest of the date. Once he mentioned Charlotte, his pride and joy…everything was over. Everyone stopped paying attention to what he had to say, or anything positive about his personality. Whenever he told them…they sort of just… _stopped_ caring. And God, Mark wanted to desperately not be able to tell them. Part of him just wanted to keep the fact to himself for a few extra minutes…because, quite honestly, some of them _genuinely_ seemed interested in him. They would feel comfortable talking to him, and the conversation would just flow so perfectly, with so much ease. No one faltered, and there was never an awkward moment. They would be laughing softy, mentioning how they were enjoying themselves…and Mark just wanted to keep it like that. He wanted to be able to smile with someone again. Be able to flirt with someone so simply…just like he had done with Kaitlyn. The feeling made him feel so completely content…of course, he always reminded himself that it was selfish to keep such information to himself. It was important that people knew.

So, reluctantly, Mark would always tell them. He would sneak it gently into the conversation…which would only lead to them questioning what he could possibly mean, and if they had just heard him wrong. Of course, he would always repeat it, his heart sinking in his chest when he remembered that no one wanted a man who had a child. But, he would hold his head up high, part of him naively hoping that they wouldn’t care. Part of him _praying_ that maybe this person would be different…maybe they would understand and wouldn’t mind. Hell, maybe they thought it was cute. But they never did, and Mark had learned that well enough. And, suddenly, the mood of the date would just change. They were no longer as willing to flirt with him, and the conversation was just _…broken_. He would find himself doing most of the talking for the rest of the evening…and they would never text him the day after in confirmation for a possible second date. Mark would just lay in bed, his phone held loosely in his hand as he waited for them to text him…sometimes, he was foolish enough to question if they had had a good time on the date, even though the man _knew_ they hadn’t…at least, not the later parts of it.

One day, though, was all the man could hope. One day, maybe Charlotte would have a mother. He liked to think so, at least. Of course…he couldn’t just choose someone who _he_ loved. Charlotte had to like them too; it was a delicate balance, one that was almost too complicated to understand. He supposed maybe not dating someone was for the best. He didn’t have to worry about anyone he liked having to make a good impression on his daughter. Mark sighed nevertheless, running his hand through his hair as he tried to stop thinking about it. The older man just needed to learn to be happy as he was…he supposed it wouldn’t be too hard. Mark couldn’t help but give a smile, a _real_ smile, at the thought of his daughter. She was happy as she was, he supposed. Charlotte had made it quite obvious that not having a mother didn’t seem to bother her entirely; sure, the older man was positive she would have preferred having one…but she was doing well without one, and Mark couldn’t help but be proud of her. He hardly understood how she was able to do it, and how she was able to wake up with a smile on her face, without a single complaint. Mark would have never been able to do it at her age, he knew that for sure. She was brave.

Mark pulled off his blazer, holding it carefully before he rested it on the back of the kitchen chair. The older man rested his hands on his hips, arching his back slightly, listening to his joints pop all the way up as he did. He supposed hunching over at a computer wasn’t the greatest thing for his back, but it wasn’t like he was an old man or anything. It just ached sometimes, was all. Nevertheless, he hummed softly, pulling away from the kitchen table. However, Mark found his attention being grasped y his daughter as he heard her yawning softly from the living room. He glanced over his right shoulder curiously, giving a sympathetic smile as Charlotte yawned again, bringing her hand to her mouth to muffle it slightly as she sat almost drowsily on the couch, leaned back contently and holding a granola bar in her hand. Mark let out a sympathetic sigh, pushing his hand through his hair as he walked over to the living room. “Tired?” He questioned softly, a half-smile on his face. The young girl glanced at her father before going a drowsy nod in return, not saying much else. Mark cleared his throat, feeling slightly guilty.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get home until now,” he mentioned gently, walking over hesitantly to sit beside his daughter. The older man smiled softly as he felt Charlotte leaning gently against his shoulder, humming softly underneath her breath as she curled up beside him. “I just got caught up in work and all…you know how I told you about my meeting, remember?’ The young girl nodded again, glancing up at her father with kind eyes. “Well…I didn’t think it was going to last that long. I would have messaged Ethan to tell you I would be running late, but I didn’t think it was appropriate to pull my phone out in the middle of a meeting. After all, I want my boss to see me as professional, and…” his voice trailed off as he looked down at Charlotte, giving an awkward smile and letting out a soft chuckle. “I suppose you don’t really know what I’m talking about anyway,” he mentioned thoughtfully, giving a simple shrug of her shoulders. He supposed he couldn’t be talking to his daughter like she was an adult, because she wasn’t. Charlotte didn’t _need_ to know anything about his job. “Not like it matters.”

Mark cleared his throat, pausing for a few seconds. “Did you eat dinner?” He questioned, his voice sincere as he looked down at his daughter. God, he had almost forgotten. He could only imagine that Ethan had _assumed_ Mark himself would be in charge of that part; he wasn’t incorrect for thinking so, of course. After all, the older man _was_ her father, and it was his own fault that he was late getting home last night. Mark was just lucky he remembered, of course. He didn’t want to be sending his daughter to bed without dinner. Nevertheless, Charlotte hesitantly pointed over to her granola bar wrapper, looking up at her father innocently, as if it was enough to tide her over for the rest of the evening and night. Mark couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. He supposed his daughter was adorable, even if she didn’t know what she was talking about half the time. “Honey, a granola bar isn’t much of a dinner,” he mentioned thoughtfully, giving a smile as he reached over toe the wrapper, checking the nutrition. He looked at it, letting out a soft huff of laughter. “Honey,” Mark continued, “this barely has any calories in it. This isn’t a dinner.”

“ _Ethan_ doesn’t eat,” Charlotte whined in return. Mark glanced at her, not quite understanding what she meant, but he didn’t pay it any attention. Just a child trying to find an excuse to get their way, he supposed.

“Well, you’re not Ethan,” Mark retorted, acting as if what she said was truthful as he gave a half-smile. “You’re a little girl who needs to grow big and strong, and you’re only gonna grow big and strong if you eat. You remember how I told you that before, huh?” Charlotte gave a half-smile, a small nod of her head following. “Now, how about I heat you up some leftovers? Nothing fancy, I know. Believe me, I wish I could do better, but I’m afraid it’s _already_ past your bedtime.” The young girl giggled in return, shifting slightly on the couch and looking up at her father happily. “Remember, the quicker you eat your vegetables, the quicker you go to bed.” The man let out a huff of laughter as he lifted himself up from the couch, smiling softly as he pulled away from the living room, making his way over to the kitchen. Charlotte kicked her legs gently from the couch, leaning back again.

“How was your day, honey?” Mark asked from the kitchen, humming softly as he stood by the fridge. He opened the door, his eyes scanning over the contents to see if there was anything still fresh enough to eat. Sure enough, there were leftovers from two nights ago. He supposed that wasn’t too bad. After all, it wouldn’t be better the following day, so he supposed that it would be best to eat it now. Mark reached for the plastic container, pulling it from the refrigerator shelf. The older man glanced over his right shoulder at his daughter, waiting for her to respond. 

“It was good,” his daughter chirped in return. “Ethan is nice.”

“Well, that’s good,” Mark responded thoughtfully, letting out a soft justified hum that followed. He smiled a bit. It was awfully kind of the young man to be helping him out, he supposed. No, he didn’t suppose. Mark _knew_. There wasn’t really anyone who Charlotte had actually appreciated through her years of daycare…never anyone she mentioned as much as Ethan. He couldn’t help but be thankful for the young man, of course. He was paying Ethan, nevertheless…but he was helpful. It was better being able to pay less for someone to watch Charlotte, as well as the fact that she didn’t have to leave the house. “I’m glad you like him and all.” Mark enjoyed being able to see his daughter happy. “He seems like a nice guy.” Charlotte giggled a bit, nodding.

“Are you guys friends?” Charlotte chirped curiously, her eyes lighting up slightly as she straightened up on the couch. Mark glanced at her, giving a half-smile and letting out a soft huff of laughter. 

“Well, I dunno about that,” Mark mentioned softly in return, shrugging his shoulders as he took the top off of the container, resting it carefully in the microwave. He closed the microwave door, pushing a few buttons and listening to the beep that followed. “Not yet at least, I suppose. I guess I could be his friend. Ethan’s nice…he seems awfully friendly. _Shy_ …awkward at times, but he seems like a good person. Yeah, we could be friends.” The older man couldn’t help but smile, his back turned to his daughter as he spoke. Mark didn’t really… _have_ friends. Sure, he knew Rebecca, but she was hardly someone he could invite over to have drinks with. She was more of an old friend, he supposed. It wasn’t like he purposely didn’t make friends, of course. If anything, Mark _loved_ the idea of being able to make a friend. It just didn’t come easy, of course. It was difficult. Sure, he had plenty of co-workers, some of which he didn't completely hate, but they were so entirely different from him. Opposites attracted, the older man supposed…but not if their ideas _never_ seemed to cross paths. The people he worked with never seemed to work hard enough…at least, never as hard as Mark thought they should be working, considering how much they seemed to be praised by his boss. It was jealousy, the older man knew that well enough. It was jealousy for the attention his boss gave them, and jealousy for the fact that they never seemed to be overlooked like him. So, making friends with any of his co-workers seemed almost out of the question; if someone ever brought up the subject to him, he would have been utterly confused in return. He was sure that Ethan had plenty of friends, of course. After all, he was younger…younger people always seemed to have friends.

“Is Ethan in… _college_?” Mark questioned with curiosity, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he reached up to the cupboard. He opened the cabinet door, reaching for two plates and pulling them from the stack.

“I dunno,” Charlotte replied. The older man let out a soft huff of laughter. He supposed his daughter wouldn’t know many things about Ethan; she was a child, after all. It wasn’t her duty to ask how old he was, or if he went to college, or anything else that Ethan wouldn’t reveal in typical conversation. The older man turned on his heels, setting the table as he waited for the microwave to go off. He hummed softly underneath his breath, watching as his daughter slid off of the couch to toddle over to the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?” She chirped contently. 

“Leftover fish,” Mark returned. He gave a half-smile, gently patting his daughter’s head. “I’ll cook something tomorrow, I promise. We won’t be eating leftovers forever.” The young girl smiled, nodding her head in understanding. “Believe me, I would have cooked something today…but, you know, I don’t want to keep you up later than usual. Cooking something would take at least another half an hour, and I think we both know that _sleep_ is just as important as eating for growing up big and strong. Remember?” Charlotte giggled softly, nodding again. She walked over to one of the kitchen chairs, hoisting herself up and sitting on her knees. Mark perked up slightly when he heard the soft beeping of the microwave going off. He turned on his heels again, walking over and opening the microwave door.

“I don’t really like fish,” Charlotte mumbled softly.

Mark glanced at her sympathetically. “I don’t really feel like having fish, either,” he admitted softly, glancing down at the container he held in his hand. “ _But_ , I _promise_ you that we won’t have to be eating it tomorrow. You gotta eat, honey.” The older man shifted as he walked over to the table. He carefully divided up what was left from the fish, which wasn’t much, so he made sure to give his daughter a bit more. Mark smiled softly. “There,” he said softly.

“How come mine is bigger?” Charlotte asked quietly. 

Mark gave a half-smile. “Because you’re growing and I’m not,” he reminded the young girl, patting her head gently. “Besides, I’m not that hungry.” The young girl paused for a few seconds before she nodded her head in understanding, saying nothing more as she reached for her fork. The older man pressed a gentle kiss on the top of her head before he sat down at the kitchen table.

∞§—————§∞

Mark chuckled softly as he sat down beside his daughter on the bed, humming softly as she shifted underneath the covers. “Okay,” he said gently, carefully pulling the blankets up to her shoulders and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I just want it to be known that it is very late darling, and daddy doesn’t have time to read you a bedtime story because he is _very_ very tired. Not even one. You can understand that, okay?” He looked down at his daughter, a feeling of relief washing over him as she nodded her head in understanding. It was obvious she was tired, of course, Mark could see it in her eyes. The way she almost forced them open just so she could look up at him for a few extra seconds…it was simply adorable, the older man couldn’t help but admit it. “Good girl,” the man continued gently, giving a kindhearted smile as he looked down at his daughter lovingly.

“You gotta read two tomorrow, though,” Charlotte mentioned tiredly, a drowsy gaze in her eyes, her voice almost sincere. Mark let out a soft huff of laughter, a playful roll of his eyes following as he looked down at her. His daughter was awfully silly, he had to admit. “You gotta promise,” she continued.

“I don’t gotta promise anything,” the man teased.

“Daddyyyy,” Charlotte whined out, pouting a bit as she looked up at her father. “ _Promise_.” The older man couldn’t help but smile as he shifted on the bed, pursing his lips as if he was silently reviewing his options. The young girl looked up at him shyly, thinking for a few seconds. “Ethan read me _three_ books today,” she mentioned softly, as if that would help sway the option. Mark cocked his eyebrow slightly, giving a dramatic look of surprise, as if the idea of her babysitter reading as many books as she wanted surprised him. Nevertheless, the young girl nodded her head, almost as if she had sensed doubt in her father and was confirming her original statement. “Ugh-huh,” she continued thoughtfully, her eyes still just as pleading as before. Mark had known well enough that advising his daughter to go straight to bed would of _course_ come with the young girl wanting to talk and talk, just to see how long her father would allow her to stay up in bed. It was like a little game to her, he supposed. Mark didn’t mind, of course, it wasn’t like he was going to get upset over something so trivial; he just found it adorable.

“ _Well_ ,” Mark mentioned in return, acting as if the thought of Ethan reading books to her was enough to sway his decision. “I _suppose_ I could read you two books tomorrow. I dunno, though…seems like it could be a risky decision. After all, it sounds like Ethan _must_ be a better storybook reader than you are.” Charlotte giggled softly, shaking her head simply in return.

“Nu-uh,” she insisted gently, her voice surprisingly sincere as she reassured her father. “You’re better, cause you’re good with different voices. ‘Specially the dragon.” Mark smiled softly. He supposed the voice he had given to the dragon was _quite_ the talent. At least, he was positive his daughter thought so. The older man hummed, smiling softly as his daughter continued. “But you’re real good at the wizard one, too!” Mark smiled softly.

“Oh yeah?” He questioned softly.

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte confirmed, giving a simple nod of her head. The young girl shifted slightly in bed, humming softly as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. The older man gave a soft huff of laughter, a playful roll of his eyes following. Mark had known well enough it was a tactic for her to stay up longer…but he supposed he would let the charade slide. Only for a minute or two longer, of course. The man knew well enough that letting his daughter stay up as late as she wanted would bring no good. So, as he had previously mentioned, she wouldn’t be staying up much longer though. “How ‘bout _one_ story,” Charlotte continued, almost as if she was using a tactic. She shifted, cocking her head slightly as she looked up at her father with a pleading innocence in her eyes. “Only one. You don’t gotta do more than that. Just one, and then I’ll go to bed, I promise.”

Mark chuckled softly. “No, honey,” he insisted, his voice gentle as he pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. “We don’t have time for a story tonight. But, as I said, I can read you two tomorrow. I _promise_.” The older man paused. “Does that make you happy?” The young girl shifted on the bed slightly, thinking for a few seconds before reluctantly nodding her head, the action genuine. “Now…can you be a good girl for me and go to bed?” He chuckled softly.

“But I’m not even tired,” Charlotte retorted drowsily. Mark cocked an eyebrow slightly, a visible look of amusement spread across his face as he looked at his daughter. “Just a few more minutes.”

“A few more _minutes_?” Mark asked dramatically. He chuckled softly, gently stroking her hair as he eventually coaxed her into laying back down. His daughter pouted for a few seconds, but they both knew well enough that she would be too tired to pull off such a facade for long. “Honey, I don’t even know if _I_ can stay up that long. I’m _soooo_ tired,” he grinned slightly, his voice dramatic as he looked at his daughter. “I could pass out right _here_ if I wanted to. You wouldn’t want me taking up all the room here, would you?” Charlotte giggled softly, shaking her head as she smiled. “Well, I guess if _you_ decide to go to sleep, _I_ can go to sleep in my own bed. How does that sound?”

“Okay,” Charlotte giggled softly. She paused, pursing her lips as if she wanted to say something as she looked up at the ceiling. Mark remained on the bed, waiting for his daughter to see if she wanted to say something. After all, he supposed he could wait a few more seconds. Nonetheless, Charlotte’s eyes lit up when she finally remembered what she wanted to say. “Oh, I have a question,” the young girl insisted. Mark rolled his eyes playfully. _Of course,_ the young girl needed to ask a question. It was a tactic to keep her awake, he assumed, but he respected it nevertheless. Mark supposed he himself had done a similar thing when he was younger. No child appreciated going to bed earlier, of course. It was almost in a child’s nature. After all…why go to bed when you could be staying up later, reading stories and such? Mark understood, although he wasn’t quite sure he was going to allow it for much longer. He supposed he couldn’t allow his daughter to push him around, even if it was adorable.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Mark returned, giving a small pause as he gestured for his daughter to continue speaking. “Ask away.” He gave another pause, rethinking his statement. “ _One_ question,” the older man reminded his daughter, because he could only assume that questions would lead into one another, stringing along in an attempt to stay up later. “A _short_ question, if anything. No paragraph sentences, please and thank you.” The young girl giggled sheepishly, shifting on the bed.

“What…what does…” Charlotte’s voice trailed off as she tried to remember what she was supposed to ask. Mark cocked an eyebrow slightly as he waited for the young girl to ask. “What does… _bisexual_ mean?” She chirped, her voice filled with curiosity. Mark’s eyes flickered slightly with surprise, his heart shuttering from the question. It wasn’t weird, he supposed; it was just…well, it was unexpected. Mark hadn’t really remembered mentioning the term around her; not like he had avoided it, of course, but he knew well enough that saying it would come with the childlike curiosity of wondering what it meant. Mark sat there silently for a few seconds, a half-mile growing on his face. It was seemingly adorable, he supposed…how she asked it so freely and so innocently. Just out of pure curiosity.

“Well, honey, that’s quite the vocabulary,” Mark mentioned, his voice thoughtful as he tucked a lock of his daughter’s dark hair behind her ear. Her almond eyes lit up happily in return from the praise, a sheepishly proud smile following. “Quite the vocabulary indeed…” his voice trailed off, the older man pausing. “Where’d you learn it?” Mark questioned curiously, cocking his head slightly before he answered his daughter’s question.

“Ethan,” Charlotte mentioned proudly.

“Ethan, huh?” Mark returned, letting out a soft huff of laughter. The older man should have assumed, he supposed. After all, he was really the only other person that his daughter was around throughout the day. He couldn’t imagine Charlotte learning it from a child at daycare, after all. It wasn’t like it was a term commonly mentioned. Mark paused, biting his lip. “Did he…you know, say anything about it?” 

“Uh…” Charlotte said, thinking for a few seconds as she continued to look up at the ceiling. “He said… _you_ were. He asked.” The young girl glanced at her father again. “What’s it mean?” She questioned again, the same amount of wonder. “Is it bad?”

“No, no, no, it’s not bad,” Mark returned softly, his voice sincere as he looked down at his daughter gently. “Not bad at all, I promise.” He paused softly, thinking for a few seconds. “It means…when someone likes…girls _and_ boys.” Charlotte looked up at him with confusion, obviously not understanding. “As more than friends, though. Like…like _love_. Like how I loved your mommy, that kinda love. I like girls like that…but I also like boys like that. _Both_. Bi means ‘two’, did you know that?” Charlotte shook her head in return. “Well, there’s some more vocabulary for you.”

“Oh,” the young girl said softly. “Cool.”

Mark chuckled softly in return. “Yeah… _cool_.” The older man hummed softly.

“Am… _I_ that?” Charlotte asked with curiosity. Mark stifled his laughter as he looked down at his daughter gently. God, she was adorable. The innocence in her voice…the lack of judgment …it was enough to make the man beam, that was for sure. The way she hardly questioned the information he had given her…how she had hardly doubted it or found it _unnatural_. 

“Well, I dunno,” Mark returned thoughtfully. “That’s up for you to find out. No one gets to tell you, that’s the special part of it.” Charlotte’s eyes widened in curiosity, flickering slightly from the thought. “No one gets to tell you who you get to like…you just get to decide on your own. Sometimes you don’t even get to decide…you just _know_. It’s something that you can’t change, sometimes.” The older man smiled.

“I don’t think I am,” Charlotte giggled. “But then, what does that make me?”

“It makes you a little girl who is trying to get out of going to bed,” Mark chuckled. He pulled the covers up to her shoulders, as he had before, and planted yet another kiss on her forehead. “For real this time, okay? I don’t wanna hear you get up.” The young girl nodded, giving a small smile. “You gotta be well rested for tomorrow, right? You don’t want to be too tired for Ethan to read to you. After all, he can’t read to you if you’re asleep.” Charlotte giggled happily, nodding her head again as she looked up at her father with bright eyes. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Charlotte returned sincerely, her eyes just as drowsy as before. She tilted her head to the side slightly, her cheek pressing against the pillow as she finally allowed herself to close her eyes. Mark sat at the edge of the bed for a few more seconds, once again readjusting the covers as he gazed down at her lovingly. After a few more seconds, Mark pulled away from the bed. 

“Goodnight, princess,” he mentioned softly, walking carefully to the door.

“Goodnight, daddy,” Charlotte whispered, her voice tired and light. The man smiled, being mindful to turn on her nightlight before he reached to flick off the lights. Mark slipped out of his daughter’s bedroom gently, a content smile lingering on his face. For what seemed to be once out of the entire day…he was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Believe me, the book won’t be moving this slow for forever. The beginning chapters are really the ones that help set the scene and define the characters before they can have their arch throughout the rest of the story.
> 
> Now, good news and bad news.  
> The bad news, which I’m going to get right out of the gate…Harbor is not going to happen. You can be mad at me, you can be disappointed, I know. I understand. I’m upset, too. I’ve been doing SO MUCH research for it, but working the dates together is just something that was almost impossible. The ending that I want and the beginning I want are improbable, considering the timeline I’m working with. Historical fiction that takes place during an event in history, especially one spread across several years, is always difficult to work with. I bit off more than I could chew.
> 
> The good news is I’m going to rebound. That plot might not have worked, but I have something just as good. And, because I feel like I might have let a few of you down with the lack of Harbor, I’m just going to come right out of the gate and tell you what I’ve been working on. For the past week I’ve been doing a SHIT ton of research for the next story because I want every chapter to be ART. I want it to all be perfect, and I want the plot to drive the characters, all while being accurate to not only the timeline, but the separate fandom I’m working with.
> 
> What am I working with?  
> The Hunger Games
> 
> That is right, our soft boi Ethan Nestor will be one of the ones reaped into The Hunger Games. I don’t want to spoil anything else, but I can tell you that the research for this has actually been fun. I’ve been rewatching The Hunger Games repeatedly, pausing scenes and taking notes. Behind the scenes research obviously includes capitol fashion (which is so interesting to look at, and I’ve worked on sketching out a few designs that I think could work for tribute parades), victory tours, what life is like in each district so I can place Ethan in one that will help push his character forward, training, Panem, interviews, how sponsorship works, designing the perfect arena. It’s a LOT, but I want it to be perfect. I have over 50 original characters in the making, and I'm going to be visiting local parks to get a feel with interacting with the wilderness. There's no such thing as too much research.
> 
> If you guys have any story suggestions, I would love to hear them, and I once again hope you understand.
> 
> And, of course (and as always because I love all of you) THANK YOU for the support on literally everything (all mentioned in the beginning notes)
> 
> Kudos + Comments are ALWAYS appreciated. I love seeing returning comments AS WELL AS new faces down below. I never pick favorites, of course. Well, maybe. But, I do love reading each and every one of your comments because they really do motivate me, and they just keep me inspired in general! 
> 
> Thank you!  
> \- Simply
> 
> P.S.  
> I wanted to thank you guys for all the support I've been getting on not only the plot, but apparently my writing style, which a lot of you guys seem to appreciate. Thank you so much!!!  
> Also, the chapter title deadass took me 10 minutes to think of. I don't like giving them half-assed titles. Lol


	14. A Few Good Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of a nice friendship
> 
> Also, thank you for:
> 
> \- 4000 Hits  
> \- 300 Kudos  
> \- 40 Bookmarks
> 
> Wowowow, it all happened in like the span of a chapter, lol

Ethan rolled onto his stomach, pressing his cheek forcefully into the pillow as he heard the familiar ringing of his alarm going off. The young brunette let out a groan before he rolled his neck ever so slightly, his forehead pressing down instead, partly on the pillow and partly on the mattress. The young man could feel the blankets draping over his bare back, which he arched ever so slightly before allowing himself to fall limp against the mattress again. It was a wonderful feeling, Ethan supposed. That blissful drowsiness in the morning that came with waking up…knowing that you slept well and hoping that you can hold onto the feeling for just a few more moments…just a few more savoring seconds. When someone wakes up so suddenly…part of them feels as if they're still asleep. Like they could just drift off again without giving it another second thought. At least, part of Ethan just wanted to fall back to sleep…he just wanted to wrap himself with the blankets that draped over him, disappearing into a sea of sheets, covers, and pillows as he drifted off to sleep again without a care in the world.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Charlotte, of course. He loved his job, and the young man would hardly trade it for anything in the world. Getting paid to watch a young girl who never brought him any trouble? Getting paid to read stories, and sort through stuffed animals relentlessly while trying his best to remember their names, all while watching movies and cracking jokes in between? Getting _paid_ to make Charlotte happy? Part of it almost seemed like a dream come true, of course. After getting kicked out of college, and certainly after hardly ever being able to keep a job…that hadn’t always been one of his strong points. It seemed as if trying to do _anything_ for a few months at a time, whether it be education or even a _job_ …it didn’t work. Ethan found that he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be tied down to the same thing for so long. The number of jobs he had been fired from…all because the young man found himself doing the bare minimum. But that wasn’t the full story. In reality, the brunette was doing the bare minimum, or so it seemed to be from his manager…but the bare minimum was him trying his hardest. He gave his all into doing it, despite what other thoughts. At first glance, Ethan was someone who slacked off…but, of course, he wasn’t.

Babysitting was really the only job he had managed to keep…working at a daycare center for three months had surely been his longest occupation. He didn’t even consider himself quitting, either. Although he _had_ technically, he felt as if he had simply been promoted. After all, he was receiving a higher paycheck…for doing a bit less. Ethan technically worked for Mark now, he supposed. His job was taking care of Charlotte, just as he had before. That was enough to make the young brunette proud, he supposed…being able to prove to himself that he could keep a job for longer than a few weeks. It was a nice feeling; something that Ethan had never really felt before. It was something he had beating himself up over for a while…ever since he got kicked out of college. That had really been where everything had all started. It was what the young man liked to consider a string of bad luck…one that had followed him for seemingly years. _Years_. Ethan had been starting to think that he was cursed; it was almost imaginative, of course…the entire _idea_ of being cursed, but it was just something that he had worried about.

Nevertheless, the chain had been broken. At least, Ethan liked to think. After all, this was the first job he had been able to hold for over two months. This was the one job that he actually appreciated enough to work _harder_ than he had before…not that it was that difficult, of course. He was simply more attentive. The job that he held now…well, it almost seemed like there was a reason to work hard. It wasn’t just because Ethan knew he was looking after Charlotte, and the fact that he was there made her happy. No, it wasn’t just that. Knowing that Mark couldn’t quite afford a daycare center anymore…that he worked constant hours while trusting him well enough to leave Charlotte at home alone, it was more than enough for Ethan to appreciate his job. He was _truly_ helping someone. It was more than just fetching up a drink of serving down a plate of food that he himself didn’t make. Ethan’s job had _meaning_. He was helping out a single father, who was just struggling to get a promotion and support his small family. It was enough for the young brunette to feel prideful about what he did…it made him want to go above and beyond so he could keep his job. Keeping his job meant helping Mark keep everything in order.

Ethan sat up in bed after another second, blinking groggily as he stared at the wall across the room from him. The young brunette rubbed at his eyes with his wrist, blinking heavily to get rid of the blur of drowsiness that always followed when he woke up. Soon enough, his eyes adjusted to the light that poured in gingerly from the window, a fragment of morning streaking against the hardwood floor. The young man hummed softly, arching his back again as the sheets and covers fell from his shoulders to his lap, draping over his legs. Ethan cleared his throat, rubbing his bare shoulder before he lightly reached over to his nightstand, reaching for his phone. The young brunette was quick top turn off his alarm, the echoing sound in his ears becoming almost uncomfortable. He pulled his phone into his lap, his eyes glancing down contently as they were met with a few notifications that had popped up. Ethan cocked his eyebrow slightly, shifting to lean back on his hand as he unlocked his phone, scrolling through his haps before tapping on the iMessages application. The young brunette gave a half-smile when he realized he had received a message from Mark. It had been sent only a few minutes ago, so the young man hesitantly tapped on the contact, humming softly as he read the message that had been sent.

> **M:** Charlotte couldn’t wait to show this to you. She insisted I show it now

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle softly as his eyes wandered to the image that had been attached below. He gave a small smile, noticing a picture of a drawing that Mark had sent, one that had been obviously drawn by Charlotte. It wasn’t of him, as they usually were. It was of what Ethan could only assume was a dog; it was drawn to look like one, at least. The young brunette could tell from the seemingly floppy ears, and a curved tail on the four-legged animal. It was yellow, scribbled in afterward; the eyes were black, though, as well as the dot for a nose. If Ethan didn’t know any better, it seemed as if the young girl was hinting at something from her father. The young brunette couldn’t help but chuckle, noticing how the dog had been draw near a series of scribbled flowers, each one carrying uneven petals. Ethan shifted slightly on the bed, humming underneath his breath as he contently responded to Mark’s message with a statement of his own, almost thinking out loud.

> **E:** If I didn’t know any better, I would say this is Charlotte’s way of asking you for a puppy

Ethan rested his phone on the nightstand again before he gently folded the covers over, slipping off of the bed. A shiver ran up his spine as his feet hit the cold hardwood floor. The young brunette quickly made his way over to his drawer, not wanting to be standing in only his boxers for even a second longer than he had to. He opened the drawer, humming underneath his breath as his hand sifted through what he could wear for pants. Ethan reluctantly pulled out a pair of jeans, not wasting a second more before slipping them on. Replying to Mark’s text before getting ready hadn’t exactly saved him any time…and neither had laying aimlessly in bed and just hoping that if he ignored the alarm, no time would pass. A stupid, thought, of course, but the young man supposed it had been worth a shot. Ethan tugged on his pants, zipping them up before buttoning the copper button. The man rolled his neck slightly as he heard his phone ding. The brunette smiled gently to himself, already knowing well enough it was from Mark, before he pulled away from the draw and walked to the closet to retrieve a shirt.

Ethan pulled out one of his flannel shirts, the one with a charcoal, black, and iron pattern to it. He carefully freed it from the hanger, slipping his arm into the sleeves before pulling it straight, buttoning it up. The young man straightened up slightly when he heard the sound of his phone dinging again, his heart shuttering slightly afterward. It was nice being able to receive texts from someone else who wasn’t Sean, or occasionally Tyler. Texting the same two people constantly…well, sometimes it got boring. Not to say that he didn’t appreciate them, of course, because he did. Without them, Ethan knew well enough there wouldn’t be a single person in the city who would be so willing to become friends with him. Well, except for Mark, it seemed. Ethan finished up buttoning his shirt, walking back to his nightstand so he could retrieve his phone once again, pulling it into his grasp and humming softly as he read the message Mark had sent. Sure enough, there were two, signified by the pair of dings.

> **M:** Believe me, I know

> **M:** She wants a puppy, and sometimes that’s all she ever talks about. She says she wants the ‘big yellow puppies that have the long hair’

Ethan couldn’t help but let out a huff soft of laughter. A golden retriever, he could only assume. Yet young man thought about it for a few seconds. Charlotte was like the other children, he supposed. Most young girls dreamed of having a puppy, especially considering they weren’t the ones who had to take care of it. Considering Mark’s financial situation, of course, and how the man was seemingly struggling to provide as it was…it didn’t seem like a golden retriever would be something on his mind anytime soon. Ethan understood, of course, although he couldn’t help but pity the entire situation. The young man had been lucky enough to grow up with a dog when he was younger…his parents had been able to afford one, of course. The young brunette didn’t mention anything in return, of course. He simply sent a laughing emoji before tucking his phone into his back pocket, searching for a pair of socks in his nightstand drawer. Ethan fell back onto his bed, tugging his socks on as he looked up at the ceiling. He smiled to himself contently. He didn’t have an exact reason to be smiling, he supposed. Nothing over the top had happened to him…he just felt happy, though, and Ethan couldn’t quite explain it. It was a wonderful feeling…one that he hadn’t quite felt in a while. Not fully, at least.

Ethan pulled himself to his feet, pushing himself off of the bed and sliding partly across the hardwood floor on his socks. The young brunette grinned to himself, a slight bounce in his step as he left his bedroom. He cocked his eyebrow slightly when he heard his phone dinging from his pocket again. Mark was surely talkative, he supposed. Ethan slipped his hand into his back pocket as he walked to the kitchen, leaning his hip gently against the counter as he unlocked his phone. Sure enough, just as he had expected, Ethan noticed another message from Mark. He tapped on his contact reluctantly, as he always had, humming to himself as he looked down at the new message he had received.

> **M:** Take a sip of coffee for me, wouldja?

Ethan cocked his eyebrow in confusion for a few seconds before he remembered that the older man had forgotten to go shopping for coffee the last time he was at the grocery store. The young man couldn't help but let out a soft huff of laughter in return. A playful question, he supposed…friendly. Ethan appreciated it, of course. It was a feeling that Ethan hadn’t felt in a while…the feeling of beginning to warm up to someone he wanted to consider a friend. It had happened only a few times before; when he met Sean…and when he had met Tyler…and when he had interacted with only about a handful of kids throughout high school and middle school. The young man hadn’t really had friends in college. He was too busy staying to himself and attempting to figure out what he was supposed to do with his life to worry about people who wanted to interact with him. Not that anyone wanted to interact with him, of course. Ethan was almost 100% certain that hardly anyone had ever known he existed; not until word got around that he had gotten kicked out, of course. Then, suddenly, everyone knew about him and acted as if they had known him something close to personally. Sounded more like pathetic dinner party conversation than truth, of course, and Ethan knew that well enough.

The young man hummed softly as he reached up to his cupboard for an empty mug. He had forgotten to do the dishes the previous night; not that there was many to do, considering he didn’t eat food as regularly as he should. Of course, there were always porcelain white mugs that were seemingly always stained with a light carob brown shade of coffee remains, sometimes a bit pooling in the bottom of the mug that he hadn’t finished up. Sure enough, however, Ethan was able to find a mug, although it wasn’t anything extravagant like his Mickey Mouse one. Just a simple cerulean blue, with a teal handle to match. The young brunette rested it carefully underneath the spout of the Keurig, finding a k-cup coffee pod the next second. Ethan always made sure that he was stocked up on coffee. Although it was something he could easily go without, he always enjoyed a cup of coffee in the morning…it was comforting. Made him feel content. He hummed softly to himself, putting the k-cup carefully in the Keurig before closing the top, listening as the coffee maker made a soft buzzing noise as the water inside started heating up.

Ethan glanced back down at his phone.

> **E:** Afraid I haven’t had my cup of coffee yet. I’ll keep ya posted

Ethan leaned against the counter gently, waiting patiently for his coffee to start being made. He had set his alarm clock a little later than usual, just so he would be able to get five extra minutes of sleep; of course, this meant that he wouldn’t have as much time in the morning to drink his coffee. Nevertheless, Ethan preferred it. He supposed he didn’t need as much time in the morning as he originally assumed, considering all he needed to do was get dressed and have a simple cup off coffee. The young man showered the night before, so he would be able to make the most of his morning during the week. Morning showers were a luxury for the weekend, Ethan knew that well enough. He preferred morning showers, he had to admit. It was always something that was able to wake him up, and it was comforting being able to be drawn from a warm bed to a hot shower. Never something he had time for, though, because being swept away in time and just standing under the pelting water was something he himself was guilty of doing. Cold night showers weren’t as expensive as hot morning showers. Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter from the thought.

Ethan reached for his cup of coffee when the Keurig had finished. The mug was warm to the touch, his hands folding carefully against it as he pulled away from the counter. He wouldn’t sit down at the kitchen table, because he knew that would only end with him wasting the little amount of time in the morning. Ethan hummed softly as he reached for his phone from the counter. He held it carefully in his left hand, scrolling through his apps, which he had too many of, and certainly needed to delete a few, so he could find his camera app. He supposed taking a photo of his coffee would be easier than typing out another message. The young brunette thought about simply taking a photo of the cup…but, for some reason, he supposed taking a selfie would be better. _Friendlier_. That was something the young man wanted to get used to; being friendly around people who weren’t Sean and Tyler. Ethan’s eyes widened slightly as he noticed the state of his hair in the front-facing camera. He rested his cup of coffee down, running a hand through his hair in meager attempts to fix it, even just slightly. Sending over a photo of him with bed head wasn’t exactly something he would be looking forward to. Ethan reached for his cup of coffee again, humming softly and giving a purposely awkward smile before snapping a photo of himself looking down at his coffee.

It was something the young man often found himself doing in selfies, which was a subject he rarely touched on. The man just felt like _intentionally_ attempting to look good in a selfie was narcissistic. At least…when he was sending it to someone who he was just starting to get to know. Intentionally looking awkward was better than intentionally trying to look somewhat attractive, but then ultimately _not_. Ethan hummed, taking his first sip of coffee, which was followed by a content sigh. The young man returned to the iMessage application, sending over the photo of his coffee.

> **E:** Insult to injury: you get a photo

Ethan chuckled softly to himself as he took another sip of coffee, smiling to himself when he remembered that he was going to be taking Charlotte to the park. He supposed that having to watch her every single day at the apartment would grow boring, so being able to go somewhere with her would be nice. The young man supposed there would be a playground nearby, which he was almost positive Charlotte would be content with going to. Ethan couldn’t remember the last time he himself had actually gone to a playground. It was always something that high school students and college kids would do, acting as if they were above everything as they climbed on top of things that weren’t supposed to be climbed on; that was really never anything the young brunette had done. He knew well enough that unless he had gone with a group of friends, he would have looked weird…and the man hadn’t exactly had friends. He cleared his throat nevertheless, taking yet another sip off coffee. The morning was nothing extraordinary, Ethan knew well enough…but it was nice.

Another ding from his phone.

> **M:** God, I would kill for a cup of coffee. KILL. Not joking. Better watch out

Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter, giving a half-smile as he looked down at the message. It was friendly. He knew it was a thought he had pondered about several times that morning, but he just couldn’t help but think about it. It was a feeling that was eager, almost…he would be at the edge of his seat if he was sitting down. Ethan supposed part of it was stupid…him almost stumbling over himself at the thought of being able to talk to someone new in such a friendly manner…someone who genuinely seemed interested in his existence. That wasn’t exactly something he considered common to come by. New York City was large, after all. Considering he worked with the same people every day, it was often he would find himself lost in a crowd of people and a sea of names. Seemingly unimportant, he knew well enough. But talking to someone else like this made him feel important. Made him feel purposeful, even if it was pathetic. Ethan smiled simply down at the phone, taking another sip of coffee before sending back a joking reply in return.

> **E:** Guess I better lock my doors huh?

Ethan chuckled softly to himself before he tilted his head back, quickly downing the rest of his coffee in a few gulps. He didn’t know why he did it, especially considering how hot it was, but part of him really just wanted to get going. The man hummed contently as he reached over to the counter, resting his mug on the counter with assurance that he would clean it later, along with the rest of the stained cups and dishes. The young man was about to reach for his backpack, before he thought of something. The young man stepped over to the counter, crouching down gently to check the lower cupboard. He opened it carefully, his eyes flickering simply from the sight of the boxes of k-cups he had stacked below. The young brunette reached over, grabbing a box before returning to his feet. He supposed giving one to Mark was about the least he could do…he knew well enough the man’s financial situation. Although Ethan was sure Mark could afford coffee, and that he wasn’t some broke man groveling on the side of the street…helping him out wouldn’t exactly hurt. He returned to his backpack, unzipping one of the pouches and slipping in the box. It fit in almost perfectly, considering how little there was in the backpack to begin with. Ethan zipped it up afterward, humming underneath his breath as he slung the bag over his shoulder, straightening up as he adjusted and balanced the weight on both of his shoulders.

Ethan looked down at his phone, supposing sending another text over wouldn’t exactly hurt.

> **E:** Heading over now

The young man tucked his phone carefully away into his back pocket before he pulled away from the kitchen table, walking to the door. Ethan slipped into his shoes carefully, which were tied up as always. The young man rarely untied him, although he knew well enough he should. His lace up sneakers were now something he could loosely slip his feet in and out of, which wasn’t exactly the original intention of the shoe company…but Ethan didn’t seem to mind. After slipping on his shoes, he opened the door to his apartment, a bounce in his step once again as he walked over to the stairwell. He gripped the railing carefully as he practically flew down the stairs, grinning to himself as he began fixing his hair again with his left hand. The young man landed on the ground level with a jump, a half-smile upon his face before he walked into the lobby. Ethan readjusted the straps of his backpack before he left the apartment complex, looking both ways on the street as if there would be anyone out and about. He knew well enough that no one in the city was ever off the street at once, but he wasn’t surprised when he noticed how the sidewalks were slightly bare. He supposed there didn’t need to be people rushing off to work, although he had expected more of a crowd.

Ethan could hear his phone dinging from his back pocket, but he didn’t bother checking it. The young man knew well enough never to look down at his phone while he was walking, considering how easily distracted he would find himself getting. His attention could easily be grasped by something that wasn’t of importance by a simple glance; once his eyes were locked on his phone, it would be hard to look away. That wasn’t exactly ideal when he had to watch where he was walking, especially when it came to crossing the streets and avoiding being hit by cars. Looking down at your phone made all of that harder, Ethan supposed. So, he allowed his phone to stay in his pocket as he walked down the sidewalk. He remembered where Mark’s apartment complex was well enough, so he wouldn’t have to regularly check his phone for that, either. Ethan didn’t always have the best memory, but he remembered this time.

The young man took in a breath of crisp morning air, only now realizing that he had forgotten to bring his jacket. However, the brunette shrugged off the thought, enjoying the feeling of the wind seemingly flowing up his sleeves. It made him feel content. Winter was one of the best times in New York City, Ethan knew that well enough. He enjoyed being able to watch the snowfall from his apartment window, watching as it gathered on the sidewalks, and noticing how people would slip on ice if the city forgot to salt any part of it. He enjoyed watching the bare trees accumulating snow on the branches, and how icicles would drip from below them. Icicles were always something that the man had been afraid of, especially considering how they could hang from even the tallest skyscraper, especially since it was colder the higher up they were. Ethan didn’t like thinking about how vulnerable he was walking underneath a building, though, so he tended to draw his attention away from the fact. Instead, he breathed peacefully, his eyes glancing over each sight of the city. So many people he knew claimed that they had gotten used to each of the wonders; the way the sun would glimmer off of the skyscraper windows, or the way the taxis would line up behind each other in an assortment of butterscotch yellow with charcoal black lines. 

Ethan never understood that, though. He never understood how someone could _ignore_ each of the wonders. The chipped butter yellow paint lines of the road, which the city couldn’t exactly fix because closing the roads would only anger people. Spotting one of the few payphones that were still left in the city, acting as if it were some historical sight that needed to be left there forever. Being able to look out the window at night and see an orchestra of skyscraper lights, some of them turning off as people went to bed; the headlights of cars flowing through the street and illuminating the road ahead, as if the streetlights weren’t enough. The young man would often find himself opening one of the windows of his apartment, crawling out onto the fire escape. It wasn’t that far up, but he would just listen to the peacefulness of the night as he looked down at the street below. Sometimes he would see people walking past, their hands shoved in their pockets as they refused to spare anyone a second glance. Just people being paranoid at night, often. He never understood what people could be doing out at midnight, especially on the sidewalk as if they were walking through an early morning day. Ethan was too squeamish to walk through the city at night.

He had done it once before, of course. The young man couldn’t remember the circumstances, but it had been late, and the man had jumped from ever sound of a car turning the corner; one of the most common sounds in the city. Ethan just remembered keeping his eyes ahead, how he hadn’t bothered giving someone a second glance, and how whenever he spotted someone else, the man would shrink into himself. It wasn’t his proudest moment, to say the least. That was why the man always avoided the thought of walking through the city at night. He knew that the people who were out at night were often the same people who were out in the morning…but they just seemed shadier. Ethan shook the thought away as he continued walking down the sidewalk, his eyes glimmering. His heartbeat steadily and contently in his chest the entire way to Mark’s apartment complex. Once he was there, Ethan made sure to double-check the numbers once again, even though he recognized the building from last time. His lack of confidence when it came to directions was surely something that he wouldn’t ignore.

Ethan entered the building as before, already knowing where he was going as he made his way to the section with elevators. The young man hummed softly as he pulled out his phone, looking at the message Mark had sent previously. He held his phone in his right hand as he pressed the elevator button with his left. The message was simply just a thumbs-up emoji, so Ethan returned his phone to his back pocket before he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The young man’s attention was drawn to the numbers above the elevator, a cherry red and in analog style as the number slowly declined, indicating that the elevator was going down. He hummed softly, almost being able to hear the elevator as it descended. The man was right on time, which was something that made him happy, especially considering that he had woken up later. Ethan shifted again, stepping forward when the elevator doors opened. He hummed, reaching over to the button that matched up with Mark’s floor, leaning back against the railing of the elevator as he watched the doors close behind him. Once again, his fear of elevators ensued. The young brunette supposed that it would be something he would have to get over, considering this was going to be his routine for God knew how long…but part of him would linger to the irrational fear of the elevator dropping for just a week or two longer.

Ethan let out a relieved sigh when the elevator reached the floor, his heart skipping as usual when the doors didn’t open immediately. It was a pathetic fear, he knew that well enough, but it was something he just couldn’t shake. Nevertheless, he stepped out of the elevator as soon as it opened, looking both ways as if someone would e there in the hallway to meet him. He walked down the hallway, humming softly as he stuck to the right, his eyes glancing over each of the apartment numbers before he reached Mark’s. The young man cleared his throat, pausing slightly before he reached over, knocking slowly. Ethan swallowed thickly, correcting his posture as he waiting for the door to be opened. Although his knock had been slow, he had made sure it was loud enough to be heard from the other side. 

“Who is it!?” Ethan heard someone call from the other side. He gave a half-smile when he realized the voice was far too high and far too squeaky to be Mark’s. It was Charlotte’s. “I’m not ‘posed to open the door to strangers!” Ethan couldn’t help but let out a huff of soft laughter as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“It’s Ethan,” he declared from the other side.

“Oh, okay,” Charlotte chirped from the other side. The young man stood there simply for a few seconds, a smile growing on his face as he heard the sound of the door being unlocked. It was a slow process, but eventually, the door was opened and Ethan was looking down at the young girl who stood in the doorway. Charlotte returned the bright gaze, blinking before she smiled happily up at Ethan. “Hello,” she announced, smiling kindly before she stepped aside. “My daddy says I’m not supposed to let anyone in on my own, but you’re okay cause I know you.” The young man chuckled softly, nodding his head in understanding before he took an awkward step into the house. Ethan shifted to the side so Charlotte could close the door behind him, and she smiled. “Are we going to the park?” She asked happily.

Ethan nodded. “Uh-huh,” he confirmed. He paused before he hesitantly walked over to the kitchen table, resting his backpack down on the kitchen chair. He shifted, unzipping the bag and reaching for the box of k-cups. “Um, where’s your daddy, Char?” Ethan questioned, glancing over his shoulder.

“Oh, he’s getting his tie cause he forgot,” Charlotte returned simply. She glanced over to the short hallway that lead to her room and her father’s room. “Daddy!” The young girl called over, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Ethan’s here!”

“I’ll be right there in a second!” Ethan heard the older man shout over in return. “Let him in!”

“I did!” Charlotte called back, a visible smile on her face before she glanced back over to Ethan. “What’s that?” She questioned, pointing at the box of coffee.

Ethan smiled. “Coffee,” he confirmed.

“Oh,” Charlotte returned. “Yucky.”

The young man smiled. “Yeah, I guess coffee can be yucky sometimes, depending on how you drink it,” he mentioned, giving a simple shrug of his shoulders afterward. “It’s an adult thing, you. You don’t gotta worry about drinking coffee for a while. And you shouldn’t, you know. It’s for grown-ups only because grownups don’t sleep as much as little kids like you do, and they gotta drink coffee so they can have as much energy as you.” Charlotte blinked, her eyes filled with amazement as she listened to him, almost as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “It’s real bitter, though. You gotta add sugar to it to make it taste good. Some people drink it plain, though, which I respect. _I_ used to drink it plain cause I…cause I didn’t always have time to put anything else in it, you know?” Charlotte shook her head. Of course, she didn’t, she was a child. Nevertheless, Ethan rambled on about coffee as if it was important, each string of thoughts leading onto another as he found himself easily getting distracted. Charlotte simply stood there, listening to him as he spoke; most people Ethan’s age hardly even listened to him. It surprised him that someone so young would actually attempt to be interested in what he had to say.

“Huh, you sure like coffee,” was all Charlotte mentioned when Ethan was finished. The young man let out a soft huff of laughter, nodding his head in return. The young girl shifted, glancing over and smiling when he noticed her father standing in the hallway. “There he is,” she continued, grinning softly as Mark smiled, walking over as he straightened his tie.

“Hi, Ethan,” Mark said simply, a smile on his face as he walked over. “Sorry I wasn’t there to open the door. I forgot to put on my tie, and then I had to check this email from my phone from my boss, and then I remembered that I needed to get the papers on my desk for my briefcase…” his voice trailed off simply as he cleared his throat. “Not like any of that matters, of course. Thank you again for showing up so early.” Ethan nodded in return. “Well, I’ll leave you two to everything. Wouldn’t want to-”

“Oh, before you go,” Ethan mentioned, gesturing his head over to the kitchen table. He walked over carefully, resting his head on the box of coffee. “I thought I might bring some K-cups over. I know you forgot to buy someone, and I just thought I could save you a trip to the grocery store, you know? I have way more than I need, of course. I’m not _addicted_ to coffee, so to say; I definitely like having a lot of it, though.” He gave an awkward smile as he shifted over. “Hopefully they’re close to the kind you like.”

Mark stood there simply for a few seconds, his eyes softening before he rested his briefcase down simply. Ethan tensed up as the man walked silently over to the table, looking down at the box. However, the young man’s shoulders relaxed after a second in his presence. Mark reached for the box carefully, looking at it. “You brought this over…for _me_?” He questioned, his expression seemingly blank. The young man swallowed thickly, wondering if he had done something wrong as he hesitantly nodded his head. However, this only lead to the older man giving a watery smile. “I… _thank you_ ,” Mark said, his voice littered with a genuine tone. He opened and closed his mouth, almost as if he didn’t know what he was supposed to say. “You…you didn’t have to do this. Really. This is… _thank you_ ,” he repeated. Ethan couldn’t help but smile in return as he shoved his hands into his front pocket.

“Well, that’s what friends are for, right?” He asked hesitantly. 

Mark looked back at him, giving a smile. “Good thing we’re friends,” he returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my wonderful readers! Thank you guys so so much for the baffling amount of suport that you are showing in both the comments, kudos, bookmarks, etc. It’s so thrilling to scroll through and see so many genuine comments of people touching on the writing style, small things they noticed, and what they’re looking forward to. I love seeing familiar faces in the comments, believe me. Trust me, I love seeing every single comment…but there are just a few of you who go above and beyond and write something so genuine it just makes me- 🥺
> 
> Anyway, enough of me getting all sappy on you. I actually have a genuine question that I was hoping you guys could touch on (with that comes an off-branch statement so we’re all on the same page)
> 
> Topic? Smut. Yes, I know, it can be taboo at times, but it is something that’s going to be included in this fic. What I was *wondering* however, is if you guys are comfortable with just one chapter? Sex isn’t something I try to over-glorify when I’m writing.  
> It’s not that I get uncomfortable writing it (my tactic for writing smut is not using Mark and Ethan’s name. I use two different names so it flows easier, and I replace it later). It’s not that at all., I just want to know if you guys are OKAY with only one, because I have seen comments of people saying they’re excited for the smut and that it will probably be good because they like my writing style.
> 
> If you’re looking for more than one, please feel free to let me know so I’m on the same page with you guys.
> 
> *And*, just to clarify something, no, Ethan will not have a daddy kink in this. It was something someone had suggested, but it will not be included. And, believe me, I am in no way kink shaming. If this were any other fic, maybe he would, but it’s just the fact that *Mark* is a father in this. That is what his daughter calls him, and I just feel like it would be so beyond uncomfortable in that situation if Ethan was calling him that. So, overall, I respect your kinks and things you guys like to see in smut, but I’m just looking to make this as realistic as possible. Realistically, Ethan would know well enough not to call Mark that. 
> 
> Anyway, moving on from that. Thank you guys again for all of your support. I love each and every one of you, and I’m looking forward to writing more of this very soon.
> 
> Kudos + Comments are ALWAYS appreciated.
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply
> 
> P.S. because why not? I just wanted to let you guys know that chapters take usually around 1-2 days to write, when I finally get around to it. I don’t always have the time, sadly. I also have to be in a YouTube mood, because I often find myself more motivated when I have Mark’s channel open on the side, and I’m watching one of his videos while typing.
> 
> Fun Fact: I’m currently watching the Last of Us series while I write. The first one, so please no spoilers <3 I think I’ll be going onto Ethan’s playthrough of the second one, because I don’t think Mark has started recording gameplay for that. Maybe after that I’ll do some Five Nights At Freddy’s, lol. Okay I am shutting up now


	15. A Special Kind of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some good ol' fluffy shit

Ethan’s eyes flickered as he glanced around, a visible smile on his face as he admired a sight that he himself had not looked upon in far too long. He supposed it wasn’t anything extraordinary, of course, the fact that he hadn’t visited a playground in so long. The man was an adult, after all. He wouldn’t go out of his way to be caught hanging around a playground when he didn’t have a child himself. Just the thought of that was sketchy. A man circling a playground without looking after a child of his own…just seemed predatory. Besides, Ethan had always been one of those kids throughout high school who went to great lengths to avoid being placed into an ‘embarrassing’ situation. Hanging upside down on the monkey bars certainly wasn’t something the young man would have wanted to be caught doing after school let out. Not that anyone would have judged him for it, of course, the brunette knew that now. He knew that no one would have batted an eye, or spared him even a second glance, or turned to whisper to their friend as if he had wet his pants or something. No. Of course, that wouldn’t happen. However, in Ethan’s angsty teenage mind, that was _exactly_ what other kids would do.

Ethan had always loved going to the playground with his parents when he was younger, though. He remembered learning to swing on his own, without his parents having to push him repeatedly. All it took was swinging his legs, but that was a concept that had taken the boy far too long to understand. He remembered his hands stinging as they rubbed down against the raw metal of the fire pole, burning until he reached the bottom. The young man could still remember the hot feeling of seemingly melting plastic against his skin as he went down an uncovered slide on a sweltering afternoon. It was only worse if the slides were metal, of course, and he could have sworn they would physically leave burns on his skin. Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter at the thought. He remembered the way the mulch would fly up, just ever so slightly, during a game of tag where children were racing across the grounds, their arms outstretched as they tried to think of a way they could claim their shoelaces were untied. He remembered hiding in one of the tunnels when he didn't feel like talking to anyone, or how he would try to flip off of the swings, only to possibly knock into the chainlink fence.

The playground was a place where dramatic battle scenes played out. When other people were lost to the other team in a stupid game of zombies, where anyone tagged would also become a tagger. When there was only one person left during a game of freeze tag, and everyone depended on _them_ to untag the rest, just so the game could continue as it was for a few more minutes. Where they would pretend like they were living through the apocalypse…it was something that the young boy could look back on and laugh, even if it was only for a few seconds. When there wasn't really a care in the world, and they could pretend they were anyone they wanted. When they could pretend to set up a ‘restaurant’ near the side of the playground, resting a pile of grass on the platform to the slide as if it was some sort of half-assed salad, which they would then exchange for a pinecone found near the chain-link fences, with the trees on the other side. Just simple memories that were piled up in the back of the young brunette’s mind…the corner of his brain that was filled with things he could almost barely remember. Just faintly enough to recall them.

Ethan could still recall the way the skin on his palms would be pinched between the chains of the swings, though. He could just barely remember the way children would pile themselves down the spiral slide, squished tightly together to see how many they could fit, and to see how long it would take for the person at the front to be pushed off. The brunette remembered how his hair would stand on end if his shirt rubbed down the slide a certain way, and how it would always end with his finger being shocked against the next thing he touched. Ethan could recall how there would be an occasional hornets' nest growing near a certain section of the playground, which would constantly be avoided due to the fact that no one would want to get stung. He could recall hanging upside down from the monkey bars, the blood rushing to his head as he viewed the world from upside-down, watching as people rushed past and chased after each other.

Now, however, Ethan found himself at a new playground. It wasn’t like the metal ones he had climbed around on when he was younger, at least. This one was wooden, and it was a far bigger setup. It didn’t surprise him, of course, considering the playground they were at could be found in Central Park, which he was sure spared no expense when it came to maintenance. It was a cedar sort of shade, an assortment of slides, and one of those loose bridges that children could jump on as they walked. Ethan glanced down at Charlotte, humming softly as he watched her eyes light up with excitement. “Does your daddy take you here, often?” He questioned thoughtfully, still holding the young girl’s hand in his, which he had reminded her was so she couldn’t get too far ahead. After all, this wasn’t some small town. It was the city. God forbid she get lost, or anything like that. The young man wasn’t the type to shit on the residents of New York City, either, but something about them didn’t always rub right with him. Reckless, he supposed. Reckless and unpredictable.

Charlotte pursed her lips in thought for a few seconds before reluctantly shaking her head. “Sometimes, though,” she returned, giving a small shrug of her shoulders as she walked beside him. Charlotte had a slight bounce in each step, her hair swaying accordingly with each bounce. Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle from the sight of her; she was awfully adorable, which was surely something that eh couldn’t just ignore. “He doesn’t have lots of time, though, cause of work and stuff. My daddy says he’s busy all the time, but sometimes he takes me on Saturdays.” Ethan nodded his head in understanding, knowing well enough that it was accurate. He supposed that would be the case for most things with Charlotte and her father. After all, Mark worked. It didn’t take a genius to know that a single father didn’t always have all the time in the world, and that they couldn’t always spare something a second glance, especially if it wasn’t as important as getting a paycheck. Part of him knew Charlotte wouldn’t understand that though, so he didn’t mention it. All she needed to know was that her father would be busy sometimes, and that he wouldn’t always have the time to play with her, or take her to the park. She didn’t need to know about all of the messy stuff…the reason behind _why_ he never seemed to have the time.

“Well, it’s the thought that counts,” Ethan mentioned thoughtfully, Charlotte shrugging her shoulders again before reluctantly nodding her head. The young man smiled, giving her hand a light squeeze before he continued walking to the playground with her. “Besides, you don’t gotta worry about that. You and I can go to the playground together now, whenever you want, okay? How does that sound?” The young girl glanced over her left shoulder to look up at him, her eyes bright and flickering with excitement before she eagerly nodded her head, a visible smile peeking onto her face. Ethan smiled, noticing the way her almond eyes crinkled with content, glimmering joyfully. “That’s what I thought,” the young man continued, a soft chuckle following before the young girl focused her attention ahead of her once more. She hummed underneath her breath, a tune that matched the rhythm of her bouncing steps. Ethan looked down at her for a few more seconds, his attention lingering, and he couldn't really understand why. Charlotte was adorable, there was no doubt about it…but she was just so incredibly understanding of almost anything. Sure, there were topics that he knew would go over her head…but she just seemed so knowledgeable for her age. It was the curiosity, he supposed. Ethan redirected his gaze.

“Not a lot of kids here,” Ethan mentioned, pursing his lips as he glanced over the playground. “Not _any_ kids here at all,” he continued, realizing that no one was going down the sides, or swinging gleefully, or attempting to play a game of tag. 

“They’re all at school,” Charlotte explained, Ethan nodding his head in understanding as her expression remained blank. “My daddy said I get to start going to school next year, though, so I get to see all the other kids and stuff.” The brunette nodded once again as he listened to the young girl. Kindergarten wasn’t mandatory in the city, so it made sense that Mark had continued to go another year without enrolling her in an education system. After all, his schedule didn’t seem as if it allowed tie for anything in between. Surely someone else would end up picking her up from school if she had gone to kindergarten, and Ethan supposed that what Mark was doing for her was beneficial. At least until he managed to get back on his feet, which he was sure he would be able to do over the following year. “I already know all of my numbers and colors,” she continued softly, looking down at her feet as she walked for a few seconds. “I can ready pretty good, too. My daddy says so. I know how to spell my name, and how to write on the line, and I even know a bit of cursive. I think. Not the hard letters, the easy ones. The hard ones are hard.” Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter. Self-explanatory, he supposed.

“Well, I’m sure your daddy isn’t not letting you go to kindergarten because he doesn’t think you’re smart enough,” Ethan assured the young girl, giving her hand another squeeze. “Remember, sweetie, your daddy has work. He wouldn’t have time to be able to pick you up from school. That’s why he hired me, you know? Because he wanted someone to look after you when he’s busy.” Charlotte nodded her head slowly. “And I wanted to help your daddy out. Don’t worry, honey. Your daddy probably won’t have to work as long next year when you enter first grade, so that way he’ll be able to pick you up after school.” Charlotte smiled a bit at the thought, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she nodded her head happily. The thought excited her, obviously, and Ethan supposed that was enough to make him happy. The young man smiled as they finally reached the playground. “Well, whatcha wanna do first?” He questioned, glancing down at the young girl and finally letting go of her hand. He knew well enough he could keep his eyes on her, and it wasn’t like there was anyone else around. The young girl stood there silently for a few seconds, glancing around and obviously thinking about the options she held. Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter as she continued thinking, before finally pointing over to the swings in the distance. The young brunette followed her gaze, smiling a bit when his eyes landed on the swing-set. “The swings?” He questioned, glancing down at Charlotte, who nodded her head eagerly in return.

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte announced proudly, a grin on her face. “I learned how to do it all by myself.”

“All by yourself?” Ethan asked dramatically, almost gasping as the young girl giggled in return.S he gave a prideful nod of her head. “Well, I guess you’ll have to show me for yourself. I didn't learn how to swing on my own until I was like, _eight_.” Charlotte giggled happily before she raced over to the swing set with excitement. The young man watched her for a few seconds, allowing himself to let out a content sigh before he reluctantly followed after her. Ethan watched as she eagerly hoisted herself up onto the swing, gripping the chains happily as she smiled at Ethan. “Need a push?” The young man questioned softly, humming to himself as he drew close. “You don’t gotta be embarrassed about it or anything. There’s no one around.” Charlotte smiled a bit before reluctantly nodding her head. The brunette let out a soft huff of laughter before he stood behind her swing, gripping the chains as he pushed the swing forward. He made sure to step out of the way, of course, not wanting to be smacked when the swing finally made its way backward. “That good?” He questioned.

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte confirmed happily, a bright smile on her face as she kicked her legs back and forward with the rhythm of the swing, just as Ethan used to do when he was younger and finally learned how to do it on his own. “I don’t like going up too high,” she continued softly. “Scary.” Ethan chuckled softly as he shifted over, sitting down on the swing beside her. He didn’t push himself forward or backward, though. He just allowed his sneakers to drag against the dirt below, his swing moving _ever_ so slightly as he sat there. It wasn’t like he was preventing anyone from going on, of course. After all, there wasn’t anyone else there; even if there was, there were six more swings open beside his. So, Ethan sat there on the swing, loosely gripping the chains as the familiar feeling swept over him. It reminded him of his childhood. The better parts of it, at least. Even if he wasn’t soaring off of the ground on a swing…even if he was just sitting on it…it was a comforting feeling that he couldn’t quite put his finger. He glanced over at Charlotte, watching as she continued swinging happily. The young brunette simply smiled, looking down at his lap as he hummed underneath his breath.

“Do you know how to swing on your own?” The young girl asked, her voice sincere and filled with curiosity as she glanced at Ethan out of the corner of her eye, obviously confused as to why he wasn’t swinging like she was. After are, surely an _adult_ knew how to swing on his own. Which was the case, of course. Ethan knew well enough how to kick his legs the right way to have him soaring in a matter of seconds. “Cause that’s okay. I dunno if my daddy knows how to swing, either. He doesn’t go on the swings. He watches. He says they look, fun though.” Ethan smiled thoughtfully.

“No, I know how to do it,” Ethan replied gently, a small huff of laughter as he continued to simply sit on the swing. “I learned when I eight, remember?” The young girl thought back for a few seconds before she let out a soft ‘oh’ in confirmation, nodding her head when she recalled the young man saying that. “I just like sitting here, you know? It’s nice. I get to watch you swing…and you get to watch me sit here and listen to me hum.” Charlotte giggled softly from his comment. “Also, I’m sure your daddy knows how to swing. Most adults know how to swing, you know. They’re just too embarrassed to get caught swinging. At least, that’s the case with most of them?”

“Really?” Charlotte questioned curiously, her voice littered with disbelief. The brunette chucked. Ethan assumed that the concept of being embarrassed was something new to most young children. It was a feeling that often wasn’t developed in them. In around second and third grade was when kids started to feel embarrassed about things. At least, that had been the case for Ethan. Before that, however, every child seemed to be carefree. They would talk to any adult their parents introduced them to, instead of simply hiding behind their leg and giving a shy wave. Surely Charlotte couldn’t understand how an _adult_ of all people would be embarrassed about something. “You’re not ‘baressed.”

“Nope,” Ethan confirmed, his voice steady as he looked up at her. “I used to be embarrassed though. When I was in high school. Do you know what that is?” The young girl paused before she hesitantly nodded her head. “When I was in high school, I thought that everyone would make fun of me if I did _anything_. So, I didn’t really talk to anyone. I didn’t have a lot of friends back then, did you know that?”

“I don’t really have friends either,” Charlotte mentioned softly. Ethan pursed his slips slightly, a frown washing over his face from the comment. It was innocent and lighthearted, with no notice of the young girl feeling downhearted about it…but it was more than enough for anyone to feel pity. “My daddy says I’ll meet people when I go to school, though. Tons of people. I wanna meet people. Daycare kids are mean.” Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter in return from the comment. He knew well enough that the other children at the daycare were always a handful. They never listened to instructions, and they never seemed to want to interact with them. The brunette supposed it wasn’t exactly every child’s dream to befriend one of the employees…but he would have at least assumed they would _attempt_ to make conversation. They never did, of course. Part of Ethan was never even surprised by them.

“Well, your daddy would never lie to you,” Ethan assured the young girl, a comforting smile on his face to match as he looked up at Charlotte. “I believe what he says too, you know? You’re a really nice girl, Charlotte. You’re sweet, and you’re very considerate of how others feel. Quite the conversationalist, I might add.” The young girl giggled, her almond eyes crinkling with a smile. The young man knew well enough she hadn’t quite understood the last part, but she accepted it as the compliment it was nevertheless, and that was all she needed to know. “You get along well with others; I remembered how you always tried to get the other kids to play with you at the daycare. You’re very creative…I mean, I don't have that drawing of yours hanging up on my fridge for nothing, now do I? Only true works of art have a reserved spot there, believe me. I wouldn’t just go putting up _random_ art, no. Only a _true_ artist like you would understand.” Charlotte beamed brightly, her eyes flickering with excitement. “I’m sure your daddy knows that too, honey.”

Charlotte paused for a few seconds. “My daddy doesn’t lie?”

“Of course not,” Ethan said softly, his voice insistent as he looked up at her. “Your daddy would never lie to you about anything, I can promise you that. I _promise_. Neither of us would lie to you. Not like you wouldn’t be able to figure it out, of course. You’re far too smart to fall a fool to our trickery.” Charlotte giggled sheepishly. The young girl slumped down slightly in the swing, just far down enough so her feet would drag against the dirt, creating the right amount of friction necessary to slow her swing down. “You wanna go to the other part of the playground, now?” The brunette questioned gently, glancing over his right shoulder as he watched Charlotte finally come to a stop, still sitting on the swing. Charlotte simply shook her head over, giving a half-smile.

“Imma swing like you,” the young girl returned simply, mentioning the fact that Ethan’s swing only moved back and forth slightly. Her legs dangled over slightly as she wrapped her arms slightly around the chains, resting her hands in her lap. Ethan gave a watery smile in return, his eyes softening at the sight of the young girl. Charlotte smiled happily. She was silent for a few more seconds, glancing off to the playground as her swing swayed gently, before she finally decided to chirp up again. “My daddy said that…uh…he said that love means…it means you…” Charlotte’s voice trailed off as she tried to remember what her father had supposedly told her. “He says it means you can’t help it. That you like, uh, can’t like…can’t change who you love. Is that true?” Ethan’s heart stuttered a bit from the question, so out of the blue. That was the thing with kids, he supposed. They were never _afraid_ to ask something just because it didn’t quite fit the mood of the current conversation. Not that what Charlotte had to say was entirely off-topic. He supposed it had _something_ to do with it.

“That’s…that’s quite the question,” Ethan admitted, a soft huff of laughter following. He pursed his lips as he thought about it for a few seconds, not quite knowing what he was supposed to say. “Yeah, I would say that’s the truth,” he confirmed, a half-smile growing on his face as he glanced back to the young girl. “I guess if you _really_ love someone for who they are, you would probably find it hard to fall out of love with them, or try to fall in love with someone else. If you _really_ are attached to them.” Charlotte nodded slowly, almost as if she was taking her time to process the information, which was what Ethan found simply adorable. He grinned, remaining silent in case the young girl had any follow up questions. Knowing children, and especially knowing Charlotte, that would certainly be the case.

“Have you ever been in love?” Charlotte questioned.

Ethan’s expression was blank fir a few seconds as he truly tried to think about a time where he had ever been in _love_ with someone. “Well, I guess having a crush is different than being in love with someone,” the young man mentioned. He could still remember a simple crush he had back in grade school, something that he had never really been proud of, and something that he had never mentioned to any of his friends. “So no…I guess I’ve never really been in love with anyone.” Ethan shrugged his shoulders afterward, almost as if he was convincing himself that things like that weren’t supposed to be rushed, and that everyone would come in time, as long as he was patient. “You save love for someone special, did you know that?” Charlotte thought about it for a few seconds. “I’m sure it’s easy to fall in love with someone…but you gotta make sure it’s with the right person. I wouldn’t just wanna fall in love with a _stranger_. That would be silly, wouldn’t it? If I just looked at someone and automatically fell in love?” The young girl giggled, nodding her head with an amused smile. “Exactly. Love wouldn’t be as special as it is if you could fall in love with just anybody.”

“Love is special?” Charlotte questioned.

“More than special,” Ethan insisted, his voice growing soft as he spoke about it slowly. It was a feeling he had never experienced, of course, so part of him could hardly understand how he managed to speak so passionately of it…he just did, though. The words rolled off his tongue simply. “Love is one of the most important…one of the _strongest_ things in the world. Stronger than sadness…stronger than happiness…stronger than hate. Stronger than any emotion rolled up together. Love is what holds the world together, did you know that?” The young girl shook her head. “Well, it’s the truth. Without love, everyone would be angry at each other. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Charlotte shook her head once again, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Being in love with someone…that’s one of the most special things in the world. That’s where two people know each other so well… _understand each other_ so well, that they wanna spend the rest of their lives together.”

“But how come…” Charlotte mentioned, her voice trailing off thoughtfully before she fell silent. Ethan gave her a sympathetic smile. He knew well enough what she was thinking.

“People fall out of love too sometimes,” he explained softly. The young girl glanced at him. “Sometimes, people stop loving each other…and that’s okay. You gotta save love for the right person, remember? You don’t wanna waste it on someone who isn’t gonna love you back.” Charlotte gave a weak smile, nodding her head. It was obvious the girl was going to ask something about her parents. “Your daddy is saying the love he has for someone else. He doesn’t wanna give it away to a stranger, either. Your daddy might have fallen _out_ of love before, but that doesn’t mean that he gave all of his love away. He still has _all_ of it, and he’s just waiting to give it to someone. He’s waiting to find that special someone, I can promise you that.” Charlotte gave a small smile, a justified nod following. 

“I’ve never loved anybody,” the young girl mentioned, shrugging her shoulders. Ethan let out a huff soft of laughter, cocking his eyebrow slightly.

“Well, not all love is romantic,” Ethan reminded the young girl. “You love your daddy, don’t you?” Charlotte’s eyes crinkled as she smiled, her head nodding sincerely. “Well, that isn’t a romantic kinda love. That’s a _family_ kinda love. You love your daddy because he takes care of you, and because he reads to you, and because he’s nice to you. Right?” Charlotte nodded again. “And your daddy loves you too. You can love a friend too, did you know that?” The young girl’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “It’s the truth. I love _my_ friends, but it’s a platonic sort of love. I don’t wanna marry them or anything, but I love them because they’re always looking out for me, and they’re willing to do me favors because they want me to succeed in life just as much as I want _them_ to succeed. We’ve got each other’s back.” Charlotte gave a half-smile from the thought. He supposed well enough the concept was foreign to her, but she understood, and that was more than enough to make Ethan happy. “You’re gonna have friends like that when you start school, I promise. Some friends you make last forever….you never stop being friends with them, even when you graduate school.”

“Wow,” Charlotte breathed out.

“Wow indeed,” Ethan chuckled. “And you can have _best_ friends too. Those are the types of people who you share _all_ your secrets with, and you never lie to them. You call them whenever you’re upset, and they always make it their priority to make you feel better. You’re gonna love making friends when you start first grade. I’m sure _everyone_ will want to be friends with you, so make sure to only be friends with people who are nice. There are some people who will pretend to be your friends, but they will only end up being mean to you; sometimes, though, you can’t help but _want_ to be friends with those kinds of people. But you can’t. You get what I’m saying?” Charlotte nodded a bit. The young girl looked off into the distance, her expression blank as she thought about something for a few seconds, not quite informing Ethan what he was thinking about.

“My daddy doesn’t have any friends,” Charlotte mentioned softly, a simple shrug of her shoulders following. Ethan gave a sympathetic look as he watched the young girl shift on her swing, watching the playground. “He never talks about ‘em at least.” Ethan remained silent for a few seconds, a small smile growing on his face as he thought back to when he had been in the apartment when Mark, after he had shown him the box of coffee he had brought. He remembered the genuine smile that the older man had shown him…and how his voice had been so entirely sincere when they confirmed they were friends. Surely that meant something. _Surely_ that meant that the two of them could at least consider each other friends. It worked well enough for Ethan, of course, and that was more than enough proof for it.

“Well,” the young brunette mentioned, clearing his throat as he shifted slightly on his swing. “What if I told you that your daddy and I were friends now? For real?” Charlotte glanced over her left shoulder, a half-smile growing on her face as she looked at him curiously, her eyes softening in a questioning manner, almost as if she didn’t exactly believe him. “It’s the truth, he said it himself. Your daddy and I are friends, so you don’t gotta worry about him not have any, or anything like that. How does that sound?” Charlotte giggled a bit.

“Good,” she replied softly.

“Good?” Ethan chucked.

“Uh-huh,” the young girl retorted, smiling softly. “Really good.” The brunette nodded his head, in return, a confident smile plastered on his face as he shifted on his swing again. Part of him felt as if he was getting too old for these sorts of things, but the other part of him simply shook the thought away. If it made Charlotte happy, he knew well enough that he would do it. Ethan was quiet for a few more seconds as he sat on the swings. 

“You sure you don’t wanna go to the rest of the playground now?” He asked softly, once offering up the thought to the young girl. After all, part of him didn’t want to exactly sweep the thought of it off the table. “I’ll do whatever you want to do today.” Charlotte smiled thoughtfully, allowing herself to think again before she eventually shook her head, just as she had done so many times before. Ethan knew well enough that asking again would only warrant the same response, but he always liked giving the young girl the option of changing her mind.

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte confirmed, her hands gripping the chains of the swing again, although she didn't start kicking her legs like she had before. Instead, she continued to let the swing sway, her legs dangling over the side. “I like talkin’ with you. You say cool stuff.” Ethan gave a watery smile in return. It certainly wasn’t a compliment he had expected, he knew that well enough…but he appreciated it nevertheless. He appreciated knowing that the young girl _truly_ enjoyed talking to him, and wasn’t only doing it because it was the only thing being offered to her. “If you and my daddy are friends, does that mean you love him?”

Ethan stifled his laughter. “Well, no,” he explained gently, clearing his throat and tugging gently at the collar of his shirt. “Maybe in a few months. Maybe. But, platonic love is sort of the same as romantic love in a way. You don’t _love_ your new friends. Not right away, at least. Maybe eventually.” He couldn’t help but chuckle from the comment, sweeping his hand through his hair.

“That makes sense,” Charlotte mentioned softly. She smiled a bit, glancing at Ethan. “Wanna go for a walk?” She questioned.

“A walk?” Ethan chuckled, a grin of disbelief spreading on his face before he glanced over to the playground. “You’ve got a whole ass, excuse my language, _playground_ over there. Slides, ladders, bridges…and you would rather just go on a walk?” The young brunette couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter in return as he watched Charlotte simply nod her head, as if it was the most serious thing in the world. “I don’t believe it,” the young man insisted. The brunette stood up from his swing, resting his hands on his hips and cocking his eyebrows.

“Well, you’re too big to go down the slides,” Charlotte giggled, as if it was the simplest explanation in the world. “Besides, we can look at the pretty flowers if we go on a walk. My daddy does that with me sometimes. We see who can find the prettiest flower. He wins a lot of the time, but only cause he’s tall and he can see over the bushes It’s cheating though, that’s what I think.” Ethan gave a watery smile as he looked down at the young girl. “Or we could look for animals in the clouds. I do that sometimes, too. Not a lot, but sometimes. My daddy is the best at spotting animals, but only cause he knows more animals than I do. I would win if I was older. You can do it too. We gotta lay in the grass, though. I dunno if you wanna get your shirt dirty.” Charlotte hopped off of the swing eagerly, giving a content smile before glancing up at the young brunette. “Whatcha think about that?” She offered hopefully.

“I _think_ that you’re too good for this world,” Ethan replied softly, his voice sincere as he looked down at the young girl gently. She giggled shyly, grinning a bit before she blinked simply. “I also think that a walk sounds like a lovely idea, as long as you promise me that you’re _positive_ you’re alright with choosing to go on a walk over going to the playground, which is an option that’s still on the table.” Charlotte giggled, giving yet another nod of her head to confirm that she stood on the option of going for a walk. “Okay, then,” Ethan continued, smiling softly as he carefully reached his hand out. “You gotta hold my hand though, okay?”

“Okay,” Charlotte chirped. She toddled over slightly, her left hand reaching over to grab Ethan’s right. She paused. “Ethan?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you love me like my daddy loves me?” Charlotte questioned curiously, her voice soft.

Ethan gave a small smile. “Well, I’m sure I’ll never be able to love you as much as your daddy loves you,” he reminded the young girl. “You and your daddy got a special connection. He’s loved you ever since you were born, and you’ve loved him just the same, right?” Charlotte grinned, nodding. Ethan smiled. “I’ll sure as hell try my best, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello hello!  
> Two days in a row, so far. Can I make it three? I wouldn't count on it, lol. I just felt really inspired to spit this chapter out, and I wasn't going to let anything get in my way. I absolutely love the dynamic of the characters, and I am so proud to say that Charlotte is my FAVORITE original character ever. I love working on her character arch, and I love having her ask such serious question in an adorable way, because it really is like how children behave. They don't know the difference between questions that are serious and aren't serious, and I love presenting that through her character.
> 
> I did love touching on the topic of Mark and Kaitlyn, only slightly, in this chapter, because I personally like the way that Ethan and Mark are normalizing it for Charlotte. That's something I did want to make very clear, especially in Mark's character. He doesn't *regret* loving Kaitlyn, because he knows that Kaitlyn gave him Charlotte. If anything, he regrets not loving her enough. However, he doesn't regret leaving the relationship either, which is something I hope I made clear.
> 
> Anyway, thank you guys so much for the support. Baby of Mine has FINALLY surpassed Fifty Feet in the Air when it comes to Kudos, and that honestly makes me so happy that people are appreciating this story for the character archs, the writing style, and the original characters, especially considering how slow everything is going so far. 
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply


	16. Midnight Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 Days in a Row  
> The streak continues

_Mark swept his hair back with his hand, grinning softly as a few locks strands stuck to the side of his forehead, near his temples. The man could feel a bit of ocean water dripping out from his ear, which wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary, especially considering he had just only gotten out of the water. Mark could feel the damp sand of the shore underneath his feet as he walked away from the water’s edge, humming contently under his breath. He hadn’t been in the ocean for long; just long enough to test and see if the water was cold…to see if Charlotte would be able to stand at the edge without freezing to death. He supposed that it was warm enough. After all, Florida seemed to have wonderfully warm water along the coast. Mark could feel his teal swim shirt sticking to his skin, and he reluctantly pulled at the soaking wet fabric with a smile, his eyes squinting as he fought against the glare of the sun, looking over to his girlfriend that stood near the rocks. Kaitlyn wasn’t standing_ on _them, of course, since she was holding Charlotte. The man gave a happy smile as he continued walking over._

_The three of them were down in Florida visiting Kaitlyn’s parents for a week during the summer. It was something that had seemingly become a tradition for them. Mark had somehow managed to get a week off of work, which he could barely understand, especially considering how his boss had mentioned they needed all hands on deck for the upcoming project and advancement the company was making. Of course, nevertheless, Mark had still managed to find the time to come down to Florida with his girlfriend. It worked out almost perfectly, of course. For once, Kaitlyn wasn’t on one of her business trips to Colorado, which meant that the three of them would be able to spend time together lie the family they were, instead of just seeing each other through gaps in between working. Since his girlfriend had started working more and more often, it had become harder to juggle their shifts and when they would be able to watch Charlotte; that was why they had managed to have Kaitlyn’s sister come over to watch her throughout the day, since they both couldn’t manage to stay at home. Not that Mark didn’t want to, of course. He just knew that with_ both _of them working, they would be able to afford a few simple luxuries, like having enough money to take a week off without worrying about paying rent._

_They had gone to the beach with Charlotte a few times before, but it was always something that the young man looked forward to doing. He loved being able to sit by the water’s edge beside her, the water brushing past them when the waves swept through. The young girl always had her dandelion yellow beach shovel, which always managed to keep her somewhat entertained as she sat in the sand, patting it down with either her hands or the back of the plastic shovel. Mark and Kaitlyn would always find themselves sitting on a beach towel beside them; the young woman would more often than not lean her head against her boyfriend’s shoulder, who in return would kiss her forehead as they both looked pridefully at their daughter. It was something they hadn’t done in a while, he had to admit. Not going to the beach part…the part where Kaitlyn was willing with doing nothing but peacefully sitting beside him. Mark supposed it was an acquired activity, since not everyone appreciated not really_ doing _anything…but he wished his girlfriend would give into doing it maybe just once more._

_Their relationship had seemingly…_ altered _, just slightly, when they had Charlotte. Not at first, of course. Everything had remained the same for the first few months. They would still spend evenings together on the couch after they had put Charlotte to bed, Mark’s girlfriend curled up against his side. They didn’t even need to be watching anything; all the two of them needed was each other’s presence, and that was enough to make them happy. The couple could fall asleep beside each other while sitting on the couch, without a single care in the world, because they didn’t have anything to worry about. They would drink coffee together in the morning just the same. Kaitlyn would occasionally help pack a lunch for him for work, Mark would kiss her on the cheek before he left, and the day would continue on normally. He would come home, Kaitlyn would often wrap her arms around his waist as they shared a kiss, before the young man would walk the living room to see his daughter, who would be sitting on the carpet and playing with her stackable blocks more often than not. They would eat dinner together, exchange loving glances in between conversation, and they would sleep with Kaitlyn’s back pressed against his chest, his arms around her waist as he lightly peppered her shoulder with kisses._

_That was just the way it was. Tender smiles, loving glances, and short moments of just holding the other person in their arms as they stood in the living room for absolutely no reason at all, just because they felt_ so _incredibly in love. It was a wonderful feeling…a feeling that Mark missed. Recently, Mark had found that the two of them had begun drifting apart. They would still interact through the day, yes, but it was complicated. He supposed it was because they both worked. Kaitlyn’s business trips to Colorado were time-consuming, and that would often leave Mark alone at home with no one else to confide with but his daughter, which was problematic considering she couldn’t even carry a full conversation. The young man would find himself spending evenings alone on the couch, Charlotte playing with blocks on the floor as he spoke aloud, using the excuse of his daughter being there as a reason why he wasn’t talking to himself, even though he knew well enough he was. Mark supposed the alone time with his daughter was nice…but it wasn’t just the fact that Kaitlyn wasn’t there. When she_ was _there…well, nothing was really the same. Dinners would be silent, and the only looks that ever seemed to be shared was when Mark would awkwardly glance at her to see if she showed any signs of being frustrated with him…if that was the reason she wasn’t starting conversations like she normally did._

_Mark knew well enough that it wasn’t just with his girlfriend, though. It wasn’t entirely her fault…he himself was also to blame for the fact that they had drifted apart recently. He just remembered one night he was upset over something, and he had turned his shoulder to Kaitlyn, his back facing hers. They hadn’t slept curled up next to each other since that night. The couple found themselves no longer in the same room together, unless Charlotte was where with them. It was as if they weren’t even seen as a couple anymore…just_ parents _. They would drink their coffee in silence, and Mark would more often than not end up greeting his daughter after work instead of his girlfriend, who would simply give him an awkward wave instead. They no longer shared time on the couch together, unless it was when they were watching television. Mark would find himself reading stories to Charlotte on his own, because his girlfriend didn’t want to. It was as if Kaitlyn was drifting away from_ both _of them. The responsibilities that had once applied to her had now seemingly been shifted onto Mark’s shoulders. It wasn’t that he hated that, though. He loved his daughter, and he didn’t mind having to carry a bit of extra weight, as long as it meant he got to see her smile. Everything he did, he did for her and Kaitlyn…even if they had indeed drifted apart._

_However, everything seemed to be fine at the moment. As long as they weren’t arguing with each other, something that rarely occurred, Mark knew everything would be fine. So, he hadn’t mentioned anything to her. He knew well enough that sitting down to talk with his girlfriend would be so entirely beneficial…but part of the young man just hoped that everything would roll off their shoulders, and they would be fine. That they would be fine if they just didn’t mention it. The better part of Mark knew well enough that wasn’t how relationships were mended, but he also remembered that they had once been close. Surely they would be able to rekindle that feeling…if not for them, for their daughter. The young man knew well enough that Kaitlyn had spoken endlessly about wanting to start a family, and how she was prepared for anything. Although it didn’t seem like that much anymore…surely it was still something that was rooted in the relationship. Mark liked to think so, at least. After all, they were there. They were at the beach, smiling with each other and taking photos without a care in the world. Kaitlyn was wearing a summer outfit over her swimsuit, promising she would go in the water when it warmed up, smiling at Mark in an unwarranted way that the young man absolutely adored._

_Mark looked up from his feet, ahead to the rocks, watching as Kaitlyn leaned against them gently, holding their daughter in her arms and smiling down at her lovingly. She held Charlotte carefully on her hip, readjusting the young girl’s bucket hat so she wouldn’t burn her face. Mark couldn’t help but give a small smile, a soft huff of laughter following as he finally walked over to them. “The water’s actually pretty warm,” he mentioned, sweeping his hand through his hair again as he slicked it back. Kaitlyn smiled at him gently. “Maybe you can get into your swimsuit and we can go down to the water with Char? Does that sound like something you would be interested in?” The young man smiled as he leaned against the rocks, looking at his girlfriend lovingly._

_“In a few minutes,” Kaitlyn insisted, although she gave a small smile to prove that the offer was still on the table. Mark nodded in understanding. “I gotta get hot before I go in the water, babe, you know that. If I’m_ cold _and I go in the water, it’s not as enjoyable. I want to be refreshed.” She gave a teasing smile, and Mark could only playfully roll his eyes in return, resting his hands gently on his hips as he looked at her. “But…I_ promise _you that I’ll go into the water with you and Char. Just a few more minutes is all. Besides, you should enjoy a bit of the sun, too. It’s gonna get cloudy later on; you can swim without the sun, but you can’t_ enjoy _the sun when there’s no sun to enjoy.” Mark gave a playful scoff from her comment, although he supposed she was right. “If Charlotte understood what I was saying, she would agree too.”_

_“Oh, would she now?” Mark asked teasingly. His girlfriend nodded her head, a smile spread across her face as she glanced down at their daughter lovingly. The young man followed her gaze, a small smile spreading on his face as his attention lingered on Charlotte. The young girl was really one of the highlights of the relationship he held with Kaitlyn. Of course, he loved his girlfriend endlessly, but there was just a connection that he shared with their daughter. The young man smiled softly, reaching over and readjusting Charlotte’s bucket hat again. The young girl giggled happily, shifting on her mother’s hip before making grabby hands over toward her father. Mark couldn’t help but let out a soft huff of laughter, glancing up at Kaitlyn, who gave a playful roll of her eyes. “Looks like someone wants their daddy,” the young man mentioned thoughtfully, noticing how Charlotte squirmed slightly in Kaitlyn’s arms. “Aww,” Mar cooed softly, stepping forward and gently taking his daughter into his arms. “Don’t worry, I’m here.”_

_“Someone’s a daddy’s girl,” Kaitlyn chuckled softly, tucking her hair behind her ear as she looked down at Charlotte. Mark held Charlotte on his hip, grinning softly as he looked down at the young girl, who tilted her head back to look up at him. She let out a soft giggle, her eyes crinkling happily as she gave a smile. Mark leaned down carefully, gently kissing her forehead and listening as the young girl squealed joyfully in return, giggling happily before leaning into his touch. The young man smiled, glancing at his girlfriend. “You two are adorable,” Kaitlyn mentioned, pushing her sunglasses up on her nose as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She tossed her dark hair back. “Wait wait, one sec, let me take a picture of this.” The young woman smiled as she reached her hand into her back pocket, grabbing her phone. Mark glanced down at Charlotte, watching as the young girl reached her hands up again, repeatedly clenching her hands to signify she wanted to go up, which the young man couldn’t quite understand, especially considering the fact that he was already holding her._

_“Up,” Charlotte giggled, her voice light and squeaky as she continued making grabby hands._

_“Honey, I’m already holding you,” Mark chuckled. The young girl pouted slightly, continuing to make grabby hands. “You are the cutest little thing, you know that?” The young man mentioned._

_“_ Up _,” Charlotte repeated, persistence in her voice. The young man pursed his lips slightly for a few seconds before he finally understood what his daughter meant. The girl just wanted to be able to sit on his shoulders, something that he had done a few times for her around the apartment, which he realized was a simple way of providing entertainment. Mark shifted carefully, holding his daughter gingerly in his grasp before he lifted her up. The young girl squealed with excitement as she was placing on her father’s shoulders. Charlotte grinned happily, reaching her hands into her father’s hair, tugging on his gently._

_“Ow!” Mark gasped dramatically. The young man couldn’t help but smile as he listened to his daughter giggling softly. It was a sound that was more than enough to put him in a good mood. After all, knowing that what he did was enough to make his daughter laugh…that was one of the best feelings in the world. “Cutie,” he cooed softly, glancing up before he glanced at his girlfriend. Kaitlyn smiled softly as she held her phone in her hands, carefully repositioning it on its side so she would have a better photo. “I’m ready for my closeup,” Mark joked teasingly, a goofy grin on his face as he looked to the camera. Kaitlyn rolled her eyes playfully, furrowing her eyebrows as she gave a smile. The young woman looked in the camera, humming softly as she waited for the right lighting. The young man continued to keep his smile, trying not to laugh. He could feel his daughter shifting on his shoulders._

_“Okay, one…two…_ three _.” Kaitlyn smiled softly as she snapped two photos, grinning happily before giving a nod of her head, almost as if to say that she was finished. Mark hummed happily as he watched the young woman tap on her “All Photos” section, to see what they looked like. She pursed her lips, giving a playful roll of her eyes. “Charlotte, you gotta look at the camera, sweetie,” Kaitlyn teased. She hummed softly, holding her phone before she turned it around to show her boyfriend. Mark hummed softly, squinting his eyes to ignore the glare of the sun. It was a little hard to see the screen, as most screens were when the sun came out. Nevertheless, he was able to notice that the young girl was_ indeed _looking off somewhere in the distance, instead of at the camera. It was certainly a good photograph, though, he had to admit. “We’ll have to frame this one when we get home,” Kaitlyn mentioned jokingly, a soft chuckle following. Mark smiled, giving a nod of his head as the young woman returned her phone to her own grasp, running a hand through her hair. She grabbed her glasses, resting them carefully in her hair; her hickory eyes met Mark’s, and the young man couldn’t help but smile from the sight of his girlfriend._

_“We’ll have to take one with all of us later,” Mark mentioned. “Maybe find someone who can take it for us.” The young woman nodded her head in agreement. “Are you hot yet?”_

_“Don’t rush me,” Kaitlyn teased. Mark gave a playful roll of his eyes in return, glancing over his left shoulder at the ocean. He hummed softly. He had always enjoyed the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the water foaming up at the edge as it crawled up along the sand, dampening it repeatedly in a cycle. “No, no, you’re right,” the young woman chuckled, giving a small nod as she pursed her lips. “How about we go back to the blanket so I can drop my stuff off, and then we can go into the water? How does that sound?” Mark smiled at his girlfriend, giving an eager nod of his head. This was what he wanted constantly in their relationship; just the playful loving feeling that they had once felt when they had first fallen head over heels for each other._ This _was what he wanted constantly. Mark loved being able to joke with Kaitlyn. He loved being able to joke stupidly with her, and smile with her, and laugh with her, and just do nothing of importance. Just the fact that they were doing it_ together _was more than enough to make Mark feel content. He felt a wave of relief washing over him; the way Kaitlyn was just acting so naturally happy around him._

_“That sounds beyond perfect,” Mark cooed._

_Kaitlyn smiled softly, opening her mouth to say something, before she was interrupted. The young man cocked his eyebrow slightly when he heard the sound of a phone ringing. Kaitlyn’s phone. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, watching as she reached her hand into her back pocket to retrieve it. The young woman glanced down at the screen, her eyes flickering with interest as she glanced from her phone screen to her boyfriend. “It’s a business call,” Kaitlyn managed quickly, giving an awkward, almost apologetic look as she looked at Mark sympathetically. “It’s from the company in Colorado…I didn’t think they would be calling me today. I really thought I could go the entire week without a call.” She gave another apologetic look, her eyes littered with guilt…_ sickening _guilt. The kind of guilt someone felt where just thinking about something made their stomach churn. “You don’t…you don’t mind if I take this, do you? I’ll try to make it as quick as possible, I swear.”_

_“Yeah, no no no, it’s okay,” Mark assured her, giving an awkward smile as he gestured to the phone. “Work is important, I understand. We’ll wait for you if it’ll just be something quick.” The young man smiled softly, although he shifted his weight from one foot to the other when Kaitlyn’s eyes widened._

_“No, really, you don’t have to wait for me,” Kaitlyn insisted, her phone still ringing in her hand. Mark cocked his eyebrow slightly, not quite understanding. “It might take longer than I expected, I’m not really sure. I don’t want you guys to just be standing around forever waiting for me.” Mark paused, giving a hesitant nod of his head. “How about you just take Charlotte down to the water? I’ll catch up with you guys in a few minutes. It’s a business thing, nothing you would want to stick around to hear.” The young man gave another nod of his head. He supposed his girlfriend was right._

_“Okay,” Mark replied gently, giving a half-smile. “Have fun on your work call,” he mentioned teasingly. His girlfriend nodded quickly, taking a step aside as she quickly accepted the call. Mark stood there for another few seconds before he stepped away, carefully taking Charlotte down from his shoulders. “You and I are gonna go down to the water,” he cooed softly down at his daughter, watching a she looked up at him, her eyes glimmering with excitement. “Your mommy is gonna catch up with us in a few seconds cause she’s got a very important phone call she’s gotta answer.” Charlotte blinked simply, obviously not understanding what her father was saying, but that wouldn’t stop him from talking to her. It was something the young man enjoyed, even if he knew she wouldn’t be able to reply. He walked down to the water with her carefully, continuing to hold her at his hip._

_Mark hummed softly as he reached the water’s edge. He shivered slightly when he felt the water pooling around his feet. He let out a soft huff of laughter. “Alrighty, Char,” he hummed, carefully setting her down in the damp sand. The young man carefully sat down beside her, glancing at her happily. The young girl stood there for a few seconds, her eyes widening with excitement as she watched the water coming over to her. As the small was swept in, finally breaking and pooling over, she squealed softly, clapping her hands with excitement._

_“Cold!” She giggled._

_“_ Cold!?” _Mark gasped playfully, almost as if he was surprised. Charlotte giggled happily, nodding her head as she stomped in the damp sand. “Maybe that’s why your mommy didn’t wanna come with us, huh? The water was too cold for her, I bet.” The young girl giggled happily again. as the wave came back. The waves always broke before they reached her, so the water only went up to her ankles. It was more than enough to make her excited, of course. Mark grinned happily as he looked off into the ocean. “You know how big the ocean is?” The young man asked, glancing over at his daughter. The young girl wasn’t quite paying attention, but she clapped her hands as the water rolled back around. Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. “Really big,” he continued softly, even though she wasn’t listening. The young man hummed softly as he gazed off at the horizon, listening as his daughter continued giggling beside him. Mark sighed contently, allowing his eyes to close gently as he listened to the waves in front of him, the ocean breeze blowing gently into his face, a familiar salty scent pairing with it._

_“Daddy?” The young man heard his daughter ask. Mark opened his eyes, glancing over at the young girl. She smiled softly, pointing at a bit of seaweed floating by. “What that?”_

_“Oh,” Mark chuckled softly. “That’s seaweed,” he explained, smiling softly as he gestured his hand over to it. “It’s kinda like leaves, except it’s in the water. It’s kinda yucky though. I don’t like touching it.” Charlotte giggled, nodding her head in understanding as she glanced over, watching as it was swept back as the water drew in to form another wave. “Do you like the beach so far?” The young man questioned gently._

_“Uh-huh,” Charlotte mentioned happily, a visible smile on her face. She leaned against her father gently. The young man glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, a loving gaze. His daughter always managed to find a way to make him happy._

_“Looks like you two managed to have some fun without me,” Mark heard someone mention. The young man glanced over his left shoulder, rolling his eyes playfully when he noticed his girlfriend standing behind him, folding her arms loosely across her chest. “I’m_ kidding _,” she chuckled, smiling down at her daughter gently. “The business call didn’t take as long as I thought. I’m gonna have to fly out to Colorado as soon as we get back to New York, though,” she mentioned, a soft sigh following as she allowed herself to sit down beside her boyfriend._

_“For what?” Mark asked softly._

_“For…work,” Kaitlyn insisted, opening her mouth to say something else before quickly closing it. She looked off into the distance, giving a simple shrug go her shoulders. The two of them remained silent for a few more seconds before Mark felt the young woman carefully resting her hand on top of his, glancing at him sympathetically. “You know I love you, right?” She asked softly…her voice sounding seemingly as if she was trying to convince someone. Nevertheless, Mark glanced back at her, not knowing what he was supposed to say. He had never really doubted the statement. Was he supposed to?_

_“Yeah…” Mark replied hesitantly, his voice soft and questioning. “Of course; I love you too.” Kaitlyn gave a weak smile before she looked down at her hands. “Is there something wrong?” The young man questioned, shifting over to her slightly and hooking an arm around her waist. “Look, if you’re worried about me being upset about your whole work thing…I’m not. I’m really happy for you. I know that you’ve been wanting to get back to work ever since you had Charlotte, and I’m glad that you’ve finally been given an opportunity.” Kaitlyn glanced at him weakly, a sad look in her eyes. “I really am, Katy.” The young woman gave a small smile, hesitantly resting her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. Mark kissed her forehead gently._

_“I love you…” Mark breathed out._

∞§—————§∞

Mark shot up in bed, feeling his hands automatically gripping around the sheets. He took a deep breath, the air feeling seemingly tightening in his chest. The older man sat up in bed for a few seconds, taking a deep breath before he swept his hand through his hair. He could feel a little bit of sweat littered in his hair, sticking to his forehead. Once again, the man had woken up to the same thing as he had each passing morning as the days dragged on just the same: an empty bed, with no one to reach out for except the sheets and a pillow. It was something that the man had become accustomed to, he supposed. Knowing that there wouldn’t be anyone to reach out for…knowing that there would be no one to turn on their shoulder, gazing at him lovingly and whispering a simple good morning. Mark didn’t get that. Instead, the world gave him an empty bed, and nothing to wake him up but his stupid alarm clock. He couldn’t complain about it though, as much as he wanted. It had been like that for years now; this wasn’t anything different. 

“Fuck’s sake,” Mark muttered under his breath, rubbing his eyes with his wrists to get rid of the blur. God, those were the types of dreams he always found himself getting; the ones with Kaitlyn in them. It wasn’t just the fact that she was in them…it was the fact that she was in _love_ with them. That was a feeling that the man hadn’t felt in a long time. And, of course, the worst part of it was the fact that those moments hadn’t even _been_ love. It was just his girlfriend’s lame excuses so that he wouldn’t catch onto her stupid charade of some business opportunity that didn’t even exist. For so long, Mark had just accepted that fact, and he had tried not to be angry about it…but it _hurt_. It hurt knowing that the entire time, he had just been so entirely oblivious to each red flag that he was seeing. How Kaitlyn had become distant from him, and how she had been going to Colorado on random occasions, with never a proper reason as to why she was going apart from ‘work’. There was never a deeper explanation for it, yet Mark _believed_ her. He believed _everything_ that she had to say, and that was what hurt him the most. The fact that he had just blindly trusted her, never sparing it a second thought, or possibly considering that what she was saying wasn’t the whole truth.

God, Mark felt as if his blood was boiling. For _so long_ , he had just blindly accepted how Kaitlyn had left him. How Kaitlyn had left _Charlotte_. He acted as if he was fine with it, and that he was fine with being alone, but he wasn’t. The feeling of being loved was something he craved, and something he would do anything to feel again…but he just _couldn’t_ , because no matter how hard he tried…nothing worked. He took a deep breath, glancing beside him. The bed was empty, as always. There hadn’t been anyone resting beside him in years…and it hurt when he woke up from such an awful dream, and he didn’t even have anyone to talk to. The man remembered when his girlfriend was there…how she would gently whisper kind words of assurance to him, insisting that everything would be alright. He wanted someone like that in his life again. Not Kaitlyn…never Kaitlyn…but someone who would be there to talk to him. But he couldn’t even do that. There was no one to talk to. Not a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, or a _friend_.

Mark paused, glancing over his right shoulder at his nightstand. His phone lay there, untouched, face up. He shifted over on the bed slightly, hesitantly reaching over for his device and drawing it close. The man unlocked it, quickly squinting his eyes as he was met with the painful brightness of the screen. After turning down the brightness, he checked the time. 2:06. Mark let out a soft sigh. He knew well enough that he would be the only one up at this time…even if there _was_ someone to talk to. The man rested his phone beside him, pulling the covers up to his waist again. He knew that falling back to sleep would be nearly impossible. There was still the familiar stressful feeling in his veins, one that only seemed to _remind him_ that he was lonely. Mark muttered under his breath, leaning back against the headboard and glancing at his closed door.

“Business trip…” Mark scoffed softly, swallowing thickly as the words fell bitterly off his tongue in such a mocking manner. “A fucking… _business trip_ ,” he said to himself, speaking to no one in particular, but the words almost felt right. The words had gone unsaid for so long something that the man had been too afraid to think about, all because he was just graying to _ignore_ everything she had said to him…everything that she had lied about. “You never seemed to have an explanation for it either…but I just _accepted_ it. I accepted it because I _loved you_ , and I _trusted you_ …and you _lied_ to me…” the last words came out in a hiss as he looked up at the ceiling. “You lied about… _everything_.” His voice trembled as he spoke into the darkness. “Everything was just a game for you; _I_ was just a game. You threw away _everything_.” Mark sunk down with frustration, his heart beating heavy in his chest. He didn’t even know what to say.

“And the fact…that you just get to _move on_ …” he choked out, his voice cracking as he felt his eyes well with tears. “The fact that you get to just move on and start a new life, and start a new family, with a _new husband_ , and a _new_ daughter…and you just leave us in _shambles.”_ Mark took an angry breath, running his hand through his hair. “You get to just _pretend_ that we never existed to you…like Charlotte isn’t your daughter, and like I…like I wasn’t your boyfriend.” Mark took in a shaky breath, feeling a tear slip from his eye, and he just sat there with a weak expression. “And I…I _really_ did love you,” he continued in a whisper. “I loved waking up to you in the morning, and I loved being able to call you my girlfriend…but you just fucking _threw it away_.” Mark knew Kaitlyn wasn’t there to hear him…wasn’t there to respond, but he just couldn’t help himself.

“You know, she still asks about you sometimes,” Mark managed, just feeling the tears pool out of his eyes. “Thank fuck she doesn’t ask often, because I _hate_ having to put what you did in a positive light…I hate having to act like everything is alright, and put a smile on my face and pretend that I don’t care. Just pretend that you _leaving us_ meant _nothing_ to me. Like it didn’t hurt me.” The man let out a shaky breath, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he just sat there. “And the fact that you just get to be _happy_ ,” he repeated, his hand tightening around the sheets with frustration. God, he hated thinking about it. Mark hated knowing that his ex-girlfriend had left him for someone else…left him for someone who made more money. It hurt him knowing that she just got to leave her old life behind and start a new one…start a new family. She had settled down…she had gotten married. She had a kid, a daughter…she named her Sarah. And Kaitlyn loved her…loved her enough to stay home with her while her husband went to work, nothing she had been willing to do with Charlotte. Mark glanced down at his phone again, muttering under his breath. 2:11. God, he wanted someone to talk to desperately. _Talk_ to…hear their voice in his ear. Being able to close his eyes and just relax to the sound of someone actually _speaking_ to him.

Mark cleared his throat as he hesitantly clicked on his phone app. There weren’t many contacts, he had to admit. There were a few of his co-workers, who he only called when he was working on a business project with them; there was his boss, there was Rebecca…and then there was Ethan. The man who had been watching his daughter for the past week at his apartment…a man he liked to consider his friend. However, he wasn’t sure if the man would be willing to pick up the phone in the middle of the night. At least, if he was even awake. Surely Ethan was sleeping; after all, it was late. Mark knew well enough that he shouldn’t even be awake himself, and that it would exactly be nice of him to wake Ethan up just to have some stupid conversation, because he couldn’t bear the thought of talking to himself a second longer. God, he just needed to hear the sound of someone’s voice. He didn’t care if it was quite literally someone _shouting at him_ …as long as he could hear them. Mark cleared his throat, sitting there for a few seconds as he glanced down at his phone. The man gave a reluctant sigh before he reached for his phone again, tapping on Ethan’s contact.

Mark pulled his phone to his ear, humming softly as he listened to the phone ring on the other side. God, he wanted to hang up. He should just hang up. He didn’t want to bother his friend for his own personal gang. Nevertheless, he didn’t hang up. He stayed on the line, part of him hoping that it would just end up going to voicemail…the other part of him hoping that Ethan would actually answer. It was stupid, he knew that well enough, but he just couldn’t help himself. Mark leaned on his left elbow, holding the phone to his ear with his right hand, the familiar ringing sound echoing in his ear as he closed his eyes, listening to it buzz, pause, and then start buzzing again. He supposed this would be the only sound he got to listen to, and that he would have to awkwardly explain to Ethan why he had attempted to call him…but that was later. Mark sighed softly, listening to the soft buzzing continue. He was about to just give up and hang up, supposing he could play it off like an accidental call, until he heard someone pick up on the other end. Mark sucked in a soft breath, not knowing if he was supposed to say anything or if he was supposed to wait for Ethan to say something. 

“Mark, what are you even doing up?” The young man asked groggily from the other line. Mark couldn’t help but let out a soft huff of laughter from the question, especially considering the brunette was up himself. “You’re like, a _dad_. Dads don’t get sleep as it is. Maybe you should try out sleeping once in a while. It does wonders.”

“Shut up, you’re up too,” Mark returned.

“Yeah, I’ll admit to that,” Ethan replied reluctantly. The older man could almost see the smile plastered on the young man’s face from the comment. “So, Mark, what’s got you up at this time of night…er, morning?”

“God, I just need someone to talk to right now,” the man admitted softly. It was an embarrassing statement, he supposed…one that he knew well enough was something he didn’t need to bother Ethan with. “I just…I had this weird dream is all. Not weird, I dunno, everything that happened was pretty normal. It’s just…my ex-girlfriend was in it. It’s not the first time something like this has happened, believe me. It’s happened before. I just…for some reason, it just made me feel really upset. _Lonely_ , I think. _Lonelier,_ really. I…I just needed someone to talk to; someone to remind me that I’m not the only person in the world, and that I’m not _actually_ alone.” Mark let out a soft sigh. He couldn’t believe he was even bothering with talking to Ethan about it. “Look, just forget I said anything,” the man insisted, not wanting to trouble the young man with any of his problems. “I really should be getting back to bed…I’ve got work in the morning, and-“

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Ethan whispered softly on the other line, his voice sincere. Like he actually cared. Mark swallowed thickly. 

“I dunno,” he replied, his voice equally as low. “I’ve never really felt like this before about any of it. I usually just let it brush off my shoulder…but it didn’t work this time. I just supposed that talking to someone else was better than talking to myself. Not that I talk to myself often. Or, ever. I’m not insane. Promise.” The comment was greeted by a soft chuckle on the other end, light and airy. It was a comforting sound. Mark allowed himself to close his eyes, humming softly. “It’s really nothing,” he continued. The man paused for a few seconds. “So, what about you? What are you doing up?”

“Awful fucking headache,” Ethan mentioned, pausing after he let out a wince. “I dunno. Happens sometimes. It won’t let me sleep.”

“Oh,” Mark said. “Should I…hangup?”

“No, no, dude, it’s cool,” Ethan insisted. “You said you wanted to talk to someone, right?” Mark gave a small smile, a hum of confirmation in return. “I mean, good thing we’re friends.” The man leaned back against the headboard, listening as Ethan continued talking about nothing in particular. Mark closes his eyes again, smiling a bit. _Good thing they were friends._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the support on Baby of Mine! These chapters are getting so exciting to write! I love them soooo much! I also love all of your supportive comments; some of you really know how to go above and beyond, and that makes me so happy <3
> 
> Kudos + Comments always appreciated
> 
> Thank you,  
> \- Simply
> 
> P.S.  
> What is your favorite chapter so far from Baby of Mine, and why?


	17. The Stress Melts Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little on the longer side, so...enjoy!

“So…you’re up because of a dream you had?” Ethan asked hesitantly, just to confirm as he rolled onto his side, propped up on his left elbow. The young man hummed underneath his breath, sweeping his right hand through his hair as he waited for Mark to reply. It was still quite early in the morning, Ethan knew that well enough; he had no problem with talking to the older man, of course. If anything, he actually enjoyed it. Although it was early, and although he knew well enough that he should be asleep so he could rest up for work…being able to talk to someone seemed beneficial. It had actually been a while since he had had a _full_ conversation with someone. At least a week. It was true that Ethan would occasionally say a few sentences to Mark in between watching Charlotte, but it was never anything bid. It would usually be just a simple thank you, as well as confirming the fact that Ethan would be there to watch the young girl the following day. Ethan would occasionally ask how work had been for Mark…but that was about it. Never anything more. Never anything _continuous_. 

Now, however, there was more to the conversation than what was seemingly presented to them. They were allowed to talk about more than just work, or watching Charlotte. They could talk about anything they wanted. So, for the past half an hour, that was what they had been doing. The conversation lingered mostly on the topic of their horrible sleep schedules, and it had drifted off once into the promotion that Mark was aiming for, but that was mostly it. Nevertheless, Ethan had listened just the same, occasionally closing his eyes so he could pay close attention as the older man rambled on. Usually, the young man would find himself being the talker in conversations, and his other friends would sometimes mention how he could never shut up. It was nice not being the only one talking though; the conversation didn’t seem like it was being forced. It flowed with ease, never an awkward falter that had once occurred when Mark and Ethan had first started talking to each other. There would always be uncomfortable pauses, which came with most new friendships. When two people became friends for the first time, the first day was really about getting to know each other, and not about actually interacting. At least, that was what it seemed like. Recognizing the presence of another person.

It was no different with Mark. However, this was actually something that he didn’t really do often with friends. Ethan supposed that he had done it once before with Sean, but it usually only lasted for ten minutes or so. And, of course, they usually called when they had a _reason_ to call each other, whether it was asking for favors or talking about something that was just too complicated to explain over text. There was never a moment in any of his friendships where he had called someone just to _talk_ …not even bout anything in particular, it seemed. The older man had only called him because he needed someone to talk to, no matter what the conversation was. It was comforting, Ethan had to admit. his headache was still looming painfully in his temples, a crushing sort of sensation that made him just want to bury his face into a pillow and never pick it up. Of course, Mark’s voice was somewhat soothing, oddly enough; it was never something that the man would admit to, of course, considering the fact that it seemed to be a _weird_ compliment…but it was the truth. His voice was low…comforting. Mark spoke simply, and took pauses in between sentences.

Ethan supposed that listening to Mark speak was better than pacing aimlessly through his apartment in attempts to settle his headache down. The young man had been doing so before he picked up the phone, his wrists pressed roughly against his temples as he walked, a familiar dizzy feeling washing over him. God, part of him just felt so stupid for ignoring everything that was happening to him, and just pretending to act as if everything was fine…but the other part of him just couldn’t stop. _Wouldn’t_ stop. Ethan wouldn’t turn to anyone for help, he knew that well enough. It wasn’t like he didn’t _want_ help…God, the young man wanted it desperately…but it wasn’t like he could use turn to someone. Well, he _could_ …but just the thought of having to tell someone what he was going through was humiliating. After all, he knew well enough that _telling someone_ would always come with their judgment, and it would often come with a simple ‘well just start eating again’, as if that was enough to actually make a fucking difference in what he did or the choices he made. The young man could almost sigh at the thought of how frustrating it was…how frustrating _they_ were.

Society. His parents. Some of the people who passed on the street, he was sure. They were all frustrating, because they didn’t care why he did it, they just wanted him to stop. If he told anyone…they wouldn’t focus on destroying the root of the problem, they would only focus on forcing him to eat something. But when he talked to Mark…he didn’t have to worry about any of that. The young man didn’t have to worry about his friend finding out, because he knew well enough that he wouldn’t. They could talk about whatever they wanted to; they didn’t have to talk about their troubles, or the things that they found wrong in the world. They could talk about promotions, or Charlotte, or _opportunities_. God, just the thought of being able to speak so freely was comforting to him…it was something that the young man hadn’t felt for a while. Sure, he had always had Sean and Tyler…but he hadn’t always seen them, or had felt so inclined as to call them personally, no. Their friendship was something similar to an elementary school friendship. They only ever interacted when they saw each other in person…apart from that, it was as if it didn’t exist…their friendship, at least. His and Mark’s friendship reminded him of something close to a college or high school friendship, however, even though they had already been speaking to each other for a week. Ethan supposed it was due to how often they texted.

Ethan had listened patiently to everything Mark said on their phone call, knowing well enough that this was supposed to be about the older man. After all, he had appeared to be slightly distressed upon first calling him, insisting that he had just needed someone to talk to. The young man respected that, of course, and he wasn’t going to talk aimlessly about something of no importance when he could allow the older man to lead the conversation. Besides, as Ethan had mentioned before…he liked the sound of Mark’s voice; in a respectable way, of course. It wasn’t something that he was going to fawn over. The young man rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, allowing himself to relax for a few seconds, comforted by just the fact that there was someone to talk to…someone who actually bothered to share a conversation with him like he cared. That was something Ethan would surely never take for granted; someone who saw him as simply a person, instead of a trust-fund or just the guy who was never good at anything.

Ethan had heard his phone ringing from the bedroom as he was pacing in the kitchen; at first, the young man had no intentions of actually picking it up. He assumed it was just some telemarketer who had managed to get his number, and was attempting to persuade him into buying something of little importance. He knew well enough that listening to an almost computer-generated voice would be nothing to aid his headache, so he had allowed the phone to ring. However, as his phone continued ringing, Ethan knew well enough that it would only make his headache worse if he continued to allow it to drone on. So, the young man had reluctantly marched off to his room, assuming he would just quickly deny the call and then proceed with his pacing around. However, that obviously wasn’t what happened. Instead, Ethan had seen Mark’s contact on the top of his screen, the familiar crimson and parakeet buttons on his screen, where he could either accept or deny. The young man knew well enough that he had ignored the call for far too long, so he had seemingly fumbled over himself to accept. Ethan had originally assumed that the call had been entirely accidental, considering the fact that they had never called each other before. However, as soon as he responded, and Mark spoke once he had questioned…he knew well enough that it was intentional.

“Yeah,” Mark replied, his voice soft and slow as he responded, almost with hesitance. The young man said nothing, hoping for a further explanation as he turned onto his right side, feeling the bed shift underneath him. “It…I…I wouldn’t really call it a _dream_ ,” the man admitted, clearing his throat as he gave another pause, thinking for a few seconds, as if it was hard to explain. “Well, _yes_ , it was a dream. I was sleeping. I guess anything you see while you’re asleep is a dream.” The young man let out a soft huff of laughter, as if to agree without even saying anything. “It was…it was more like a memory. Like I was reliving something…something that I hadn’t really thought about in so long. It was just so _real_ though…every single detail was correct; everything I needed to know from that day was just stored in my mind, and it was written out in dream form for me. One of the days that would become one of the most important days of my life was written out before me, and I just had to _relive it_. It was…God, the dream was wonderful if I didn’t know what it brought…but it was awful knowing everything I know now. Knowing everything about _her,_ and what she had been doing the entire time.” Ethan cocked his eyebrow slightly, not quite understanding.

“I had a dream about my ex-girlfriend,” Mark continued softly, something that the man had already mentioned to Ethan when he had picked up the phone. One of the first things, in fact. “Well…not _about_ my ex-girlfriend; she was in it, though. Kaitlyn was in it, and everything she did was _exactly_ the same as what she had done on that day all those years ago. Down to the way she flipped her hair, and the fake loving glances she would give me as she was on her phone…on her phone with the man she's married to now, acting like it was all she proposition for a business meeting in Colorado.” Ethan swallowed thickly, a pang of guilty washing over him in return. God…he couldn’t even imagine how traumatizing that thought must have been…especially knowing everything that happened later on. Everything that had happened since, and how everything had unwinded before him. “Everything just felt so real, even though it was just some stupid memory. The wind in my face felt real…the trust I felt for her felt so undeniably real, even when she _lied_ to me. Even when I felt love for her in the dream, I still got that head over heels feeling like I did in the moment…and I _hated it_.” Ethan remained silent, holding his breath. It felt impossible to even make a statement in addition to what Mark was saying. So, he didn’t. He kept his mouth shut for once, and he listened…he listened for Mark.

“I should have caught on to everything in real life the second she told me she loved me like that, by the water…” Mark whispered lowly, his voice so hesitant and broken as he spoke. As if he felt sorry for himself…as if he felt sorry for not catching on when it first happened. “How she said it so _apologetically._ Like saying it was her way of forgiving _herself_ for what she had probably said on the phone…for what she had said to that guy, and the promises she had made him when she should have been spending her time with _me_ …spending her time with Charlotte.” Ethan glanced at the wall, a churning feeling in his stomach. God, he just felt awful for Mark…beyond awful. He couldn’t even say anything sympathetic, though…it just wouldn’t feel right. The older man let out a soft sigh, almost as if he felt sorry for worrying Ethan with everything. “That was one of the only days whee she had actually bothered treating me like she loved me…and it was only because she felt so _pathetic_ about what she was saying behind my back...about how she was loving someone else behind my back, and was just leaving me behind. And to think, that she got her happily ever after again. To think…to think that she got her fairytale wedding, and she got to marry someone she loves…and she got to have another kid, as if Charlotte meant absolutely _nothing_ to her. As if we were just both pawns… _side characters_ in her story.”

“I just…I _wished_ I could have figured everything out sooner,” Mark choked out, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. Ethan’s heart stuttered as he listened, afraid to say anything. He felt horrible. “I’m…I'm sorry for bothering you with all of this,” the older man continued softly, his voice in an apologetic whisper as he cleared his throat. Ethan gave a sympathetic smile, glancing at his doorway as he listened to Mark, not aware if he should say anything yet. “I’ve just…I’ve never really said any of this aloud before. Not to _anyone_. I’ve just sort of…sort of kept it all to myself; acted like everything was alright. I ignored the way she made me feel, and how she treated me, and how she just left me like I meant nothing. I acted as if all of that was normal, and that I was just supposed to _accept it_. Play it off like it was nothing, you know? As if that would actually make me feel better.” Ethan let out a soft hum in return, as if to mention that he understood. “Charlotte still asks about her sometimes…” Mark continued in a whisper, his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry…” Ethan breathed out softly, biting his lower lip as he glanced up at the ceiling. He didn’t know what else he could possibly say…probably a lot of things. Of course, none of those other things were on his mind currently. “I…how often?”

“Not often,” Mark returned, a grateful tone in his voice. “Thank God she doesn’t ask often…as much as I hate what Kaitlyn did…she gave me Charlotte. I can’t talk bad about my daughter’s mother in front of her, because as awful as she was and through how horribly she treated me…I wouldn’t have Charlotte without her.” Ethan gave a watery smile as he listened to the older man. “I see a bit of Kaitlyn in her,” Mark continued. “Not…not in a physical way. I don’t know what I would do if it was in a physical sense, no; she acts like her sometimes. In little ways, I suppose. She’s awfully stubborn…just like her mother.” Mark let out a soft, breathy laugh; it was genuine. It made Ethan relax, even if it was only slightly. “Most of the time she won’t take no for an answer. She really does wear the pants in this family dynamic.” Ethan chuckled softly, a grin on his face.

“Really, Mark?” Ethan asked jokingly, a smile on his face as he sat up in bed. “You’re letting your own daughter make the decisions?” 

“You’d be surprised,” Mark replied; the young man could almost see his smile…as if he was standing in front of him. The older man cleared his throat. “I haven’t really told Charlotte much about her mother in general,” he explained softly. “Charlotte didn’t even know what her mother looked like until about a week ago, when she was looking through that photo album; God, I never would have let her look through it if I knew there was a picture of her mother in there…the only one I forgot to take out.” The older man sighed. “I don’t know…maybe I’m just too sensitive about all of it. Am…am I?”

“No, of course not,” Ethan assured the older man, his voice serious and genuine as he spoke truthfully. “It’s 100% understandable, I can promise you that. If you don’t want Charlotte knowing about her because you don’t feel comfortable talking about her…you’re allowed to be protective about the subject matter. I…I’m the same with my parents. I don’t like talking about them with anyone, even my closest friends. When someone asks, I kinda go out of my way to ignore their questions. It’s okay to not want to talk about something sensitive.” Mark hummed in return, thinking for a few seconds. “Do you…do you miss her? Kaitlyn?’ 

There was a long pause. Ethan held his breath in his chest, hoping that he hadn’t asked something rude. “No,” Mark returned finally, his voice truthful. The young man allowed himself to pull away slightly from the phone, letting out a soft breath of relief that he hadn’t asked something insensitive, before he returned the phone to his ear. “It’s weird, I suppose. I miss the _idea_ of having someone like her around. You know? I miss the feeling of being able to love someone…it’s been years since that. Can’t even go on a fucking date without being worried that nothing will work.” The older man chuckled, but in a sad sort of way. Almost forced…almost as if it was some sort of excuse. “I guess my romantic life is non-existent at this point. No one wants to date a father.” Ethan gave a sad smile, wishing that Mark could see it. Part of him just wanted to help, and he knew that well enough.

“Well…believe me, if you ever need to call me just to talk again,” Ethan reminded the older man, shifting slightly on his bed, “I’m always here. Now, I can’t guarantee that I’ll always be up until two in the morning…but I can truthfully say that anything from after work until eleven is my sweet spot.” He hummed softly as he heard Mark chuckling from the other side of the phone.

“Thanks, Eth,” Mark mentioned softly, although his voice was still sad.

“Are you…are you better?” Ethan asked hesitantly, pursing his lips slightly in thought. 

“I…I don’t know,” Mark mentioned weakly, almost as if he didn’t know what he was supposed to say. There was a long pause, followed by a heavy sigh on the other side…almost as if it pained the older man to speak. “A little bit…don’t get me wrong, dude, it helped a little bit. It’s just…I don’t know; I guess talking to someone over the phone isn’t quite the same as talking to them in person. I…I don’t really remember the last time I've been able to hold a _real_ conversation with us. Work conversations don’t count…those aren’t any fun. And yeah, I talk t you sometimes…but always something that’s just simple. Now that Kaitlyn isn’t here anymore…it’s hard to have a real conversation. As talkative as Charlotte is…you can’t talk about all the serious and important things that children won’t understand.” Ethan gave a half-nod in understanding. 

“Sounds like you need a friend hug,” Ethan mentioned teasingly. Mark let out a soft huff of laughter, saying nothing more for a few seconds. “Want me to come over?” The man joked.

“What? No,” Mark said quickly….almost as if he was trying to convince himself. The young man wasn’t even sure himself if the question had been joking…or if he really wanted to go over to Mark’s apartment, just to give him a friendly hug. Originally he had been joking, maybe, but now he wasn’t entirely sure. After all, hugs were always something that he had treasured when he was growing up, especially from his parents. They were always something that had managed to put a smile on his face. “No, it’s like…it’s so late. Er, early. Way too dark outside. I guarantee you that you would get mugged within the first few seconds of being outside. Who would watch Charlotte?” Ethan gave a playful roll of his eyes, chuckling softly from Mark’s comment. “Besides…it's cold out, even if it wasn’t dark. Coming over just to what, give me a hug?” He was awfully defensive.

“Are you sure?” Ethan whispered softly, now completely serious. “I mean…it’s not a big deal, dude.” He could hear the man swallow thickly from the other end. “I can be there in a few minutes, and I can be gone as soon as I came. Believe me…friend hugs are the best.” Mark let out a soft huff of laughter, pausing as if he was thinking. Ethan remained silent.

“I’m not a bother to you if I were to say yes, right?” The older man questioned hesitantly. Ethan could feel a shit-eating grin plaster on his own face, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Of course not,” Ethan mentioned. “You owe me though if I end up being murdered on the way there."

“Oh, of course,” Mark returned, his voice just as joking. The young man couldn’t help but smile softly, sitting up in bed. “How about this…you’re allowed to haunt me as a ghost if you die? That sound good?” Ethan stifled his laughter for a few seconds before tossing his head back, letting out steady laughter at the thought. He supposed joking about the things that scared him slightly was a way of getting it off his chest. “Well, glad to know we can agree on that,” he continued, humming softly. The older man paused. “Are you…are you actually going to come over?” Mark questioned hesitantly.’

“Obviously,” Ethan returned. The young man hummed softly as he lifted himself off of the bed. The young man arched his back slightly, feeling his joints pop all the way up. He continued to hold his phone close to his ear. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna hang up now, okay?” He could hear Mark scoff from the other side before he hummed in return. Ethan pulled the phone away from his ear, reluctantly pressing the red button before tucking the phone into his pocket. The young man looked down at himself, giving a reluctant smile. He supposed there was an upside to the fact that he hadn’t gotten undressed yet, and had instead been sitting on the bed with the outfit he had been wearing all day. It was usually something he would consider unhealthy…but he supposed that for once it had come in handy. Ethan gave a half-smile, pulling himself away from his bedroom before he slid into the hallway. The young man chuckled softly underneath his breath. He had never done anything like this before for any of his friends…walking through the city at night was already something that terrified him. The man knew well enough that he would be incredibly jumpy on the way there, as well on the way back…but he supposed that part of it would be alright. After all, Mark was obviously in need of actual human interaction.

Ethan walked to the door, not even bothering to grab a jacket as he slipped on his already laced-up sneakers. The young man swept a hand through his hair, knowing well enough that it was probably messy after laying it down on the pillow. After a few seconds of regaining his posture, he reluctantly opened the door, peering into the hallway. God, just the thought of walking down the stairwell was more than enough to make his skin crawl. He peered hesitantly into the hallway, glancing to the left and glancing to the right. As he had imagined, there was no one there. Of course, Ethan wasn’t surprised, considering it was two in the morning. The young man sucked in a soft breath, holding it steadily in his chest before he stepped in the hallway. He closed the door behind him, his eyes darting over to the door of the stairwell. Ethan walked over, almost hesitantly, as he entered the stairwell. However, as soon as he was there, the only thing on his mind was racing down the stairs as fast as he could. The young man almost tripped on the way down, fumbling over himself as he reached the final step. He stumbled forward, entering the lobby. As he had expected, there was no one there, not even behind the desk. 

“Scary as fuck down here,” Ethan whispered under his breath, almost as if that was enough to comfort himself. He shivered slightly, glancing over his right and left shoulder, as if there would be someone in a lobby chair brooding behind a newspaper, watching him steadily. Obviously, that wasn’t the case. The young man swallowed thickly, taking a steady breath. He supposed that there would most likely be other people in the city who were just like him…afraid of the city at night. Ethan glanced at the door to the lobby; it was so dark outside that all he could see was his own reflection, as well as the streetlights outside. There were a few cars, surprisingly, but not many. Part of him really just wanted to race back up the staircase, forgetting he had mentioned anything; he couldn’t, though, he knew that well enough. The young man pushed against the lobby door, being greeted by the cold, rush wind of the night. Ethan shivered hesitantly, starting to wish he had grabbed his jacket. “The shit I do for him,” he mentioned under his breath, supposing that talking to himself as he walked would be better than simply moving with silence. The young man held his breath for a few seconds before he hesitantly started down the sidewalk, slightly skittish.

Ethan held his breath carefully in his lungs, shoving his hands in his front pockets as he glanced at a nearby skyscraper. It was actually a comforting sight…noticing how a majority of the windows were still filled with a warm, glowing light. He knew well enough it was a business building, and that there was probably no one else awake in there except for the janitor who was cleaning up…but he liked to think that each window had a person behind it, each one of them awake for a personal reason of their own. Ethan liked to think that the lights were on just for him…just to comfort him as he walked through the city; he was sure he looked awfully suspicious to anyone who would catch a glance at him. That was more than enough to make the young man let out a soft chuckle. He looked down at his feet for a few seconds before realizing that it would probably be best to keep his attention focused on the sidewalk ahead of him.

Ethan breathed in softly, holding the air in his lungs as he steadied his heartbeat. “This is no different than walking around in the morning,” he reminded himself softly, although it sounded more like he was attempting to _convince_ himself. "Only difference is that it’s fucking terrifying out here. Cold…dark…could be literally anyone waiting around the corner to jump out and stab me.” The young man shivered at the thought, glancing around awkwardly. Obviously, there was no one there. Well, not obviously, but unsurprisingly. “Can’t get mugged if you don’t have anything to give them,” Ethan continued hesitantly, his voice in a soft whisper until he remembered that his phone was in his back pocket. The young man rolled his eyes from the stupid thought. Leave it to him being the only thing that was actually frightening him. Sure, it was dark and it was cold, but the brunette knew well enough that he would feel better if he didn’t overthink everything. Ethan gave another relaxed breath, glancing over to the buildings as he walked. The farther he walked from his own apartment, the fewer lights seemed to be on through the windows. He could hear the sound of cars from a few blocks over, although there were none in sight. The only cars that were out were the Ubers picking people up from the airports for business trips in the city. The city stopped for no one.

Ethan glanced up at the sky, a half-frown on his face. No stars. The young man had never seen a star in the sky since the day he had moved there. At first, he assumed it was just cloudy, and that one day he would be able to catch a glimpse of the twinkling. However, the brunette had soon come to realize that it was all the light pollution in the city, which prevented the stars from being seen by anyone…no matter how high up you were. Even if you were laying on the roof of a skyscraper…it was seemingly a blank void of sky. Nothing like the sky in Maine, Ethan knew that well enough. He could almost still remember what the stars looked like back in his hometown…back when he could lay out in the grass, his hands behind his head as he looked up at the sky longingly. Ethan supposed that the beauty of a midnight sky was just something he had to give up for ‘opportunities’, although he had never really moved up in any industry since he had arrived. One day, though, Ethan supposed that he wanted to escape from the busy life of the city…out to a less busy area, so he could just look up at the sky like he used to. 

Ethan couldn’t really do that, though, especially considering the fact that he had _finally_ managed to get a job that would sustain his rent. It wasn’t just something that he could just simply _give up_ …part of him supposed that he could go groveling to his parents, or something of the sort; of course, it was never anything that the young man would do. Ethan supposed he was too prideful for that…he knew well enough he would rather live on the side of the street then go crawling back to his parents in disarray. He supposed that was the reason he had decided to even move to the city in the first place; just so he could get away from home, and _prove_ something to his parents, although he didn’t quite know what he had to prove. He supposed it was more out of spite than it was out of self-gain. Nevertheless, he had done it with full intention, never once faltering in any of the decisions he made. He supposed he had no complaints on the subject matter…nothing he would redo. Maybe he would turn back time to finish college, instead of getting kicked out. That was really the only thing.

Ethan’s heart skipped a beat when he heard a ding from his back pocket. He gave a sigh of relief, muttering under his breath as he reached into his back pocket. Sure enough, it was a message from Mark. And, sure enough, it had scared him half to death. “Christ almighty,” the young man muttered, glancing down at his phone quickly to unlock it before he looked straight ahead. After a few seconds, Ethan glanced down again, reading the message.

> **M:** Just making sure you’re still alive

“Fuckin idiot,” Ethan scoffed, a small smile on his face as he looked down at the message. He gave a quick thumbs-up emoji in return, not wanting to look down at his screen any longer; all he wanted to do was keep his eyes on the sidewalk. The good thing about being frightened, the brunette supposed, was the fact that he was able to walk slightly faster, considering it a normal pace at the time. The young man hummed underneath his breath.

After a few more minutes, Ethan let out a sigh of relief when he reached the apartment complex. “Thank God,” he murmured underneath his breath, glancing at the building number once more before he pulled the lobby doors open, stepping inside. The young man glanced around. As with his own apartment complex lobby, it was seemingly barren. The apricot and medallion shaded chairs that the young man was sure were once filled with people eagerly sipping at a cup of coffee, or reading the newspaper, were empty. Marble coffee tables obtained nothing but free space and a simple vase of flowers, which Ethan could only presume were fake because they looked too good to be true. An ornate rug lay underneath, something that _looked_ like it could be worth something, although Ethan could see through the facade easily enough. Everyone knew that the lobbies to apartment complexes were practically worth nothing. Just a simple glimpse to passers-by as to what the apartments themselves could entertain, although everyone knew well enough that they would find nothing of the sort. At least, anyone who had ever _lived_ in an apartment complex would know. A cheap one, at least. The ones with only four chairs out, because usually, that was all they could afford to make it look nice. The young man found himself lingering in the lobby for a few seconds longer, almost sitting down in one of the chairs in fact. However, sitting in a seemingly abandoned lobby in the middle of the night, with such large glass windows revealing what he was doing…the young man was sure that it would appear sketchy to anyone who passed by. 

Ethan picked himself up from the side of the chair, proceeding to walk back to where the elevators could be found. He muttered under his breath. Going inside an elevator past two in the morning was never something he wanted to do, and it appeared to be _much_ worse than doing the whole ordeal during the afternoon. Nevertheless, Ethan pressed the button to go up, leaning against the wall slightly as he hummed underneath his breath. He knew well enough that he would forget about this whole ordeal by the time he actually got to bed; that was something that often happened with him. Anything that occurred during the middle of the night, no matter the length of the occasion…he always ended up forgetting. Something about his brain not being able to think straight, he supposed. Nevertheless, the young man knew he had to be there for his friend, especially considering no one else would be. Ethan hadn’t quite forgotten how Charlotte had mentioned her father’s lack of friends…I mean, part of him assumed that Charlotte had been _slightly_ exaggerating. Ethan knew well enough that the young man surely had other friends than him…but he wasn’t going to take that chance. When the elevator doors opened, the young man reluctantly stepped inside, letting out a soft huff as he pressed the button that coordinated with Mark’s floor. 

Ethan sucked in a small breath as the elevator doors finally closed. The young man shifted, his hand reaching out to the railing against the elevator wall, as usual, and he tilted his head back just slightly. The young man breathed softly as a ding followed, the elevator doors closing right afterward. He supposed the good part of it being so early was the fact that he didn’t have to share the elevator with anyone. Not that it happened often, of course. After all, he had only been watching Charlotte for the past week. However, the man had always found ti difficult explaining what he was _doing_ at the apartment complex, since once in a while someone would mention the fact that they had never seen him before, and he would just try to stall about how he was thinking the same thing about them; then, once he got to his stop, he booked it to Mark’s apartment. None of Mark’s personal matters, or his own for that matter, were anyone’s business. The young man wished that people would stop sticking their nose into things that didn’t concern them. Ethan hummed softly, listening to the soft noise of the elevator journeying its way between floors. The analog number went up one after the other, until the elevator had finally reached Mark’s floor. The young man waited, his heart skipping a beat when the doors faltered, but they opened just the same. The brunette stumbled out of the elevator, letting out a sigh of relief as he turned the corner, finding his way to Mark’s door.

Ethan paused for a few seconds, shifting on his feet before he reached his fist forward. He knocked his knuckles lightly on the wooden door, drawing his hand back after another second. The young man could only assume that Charlotte was asleep, so he didn’t want to go out of his way to knock heavily on the older man’s door when he didn’t have to. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other again, glancing his head side to side cautiously. The young man waited a few seconds, hesitantly glancing to each side of him. Standing in the hallway so early in the morning was something that Ethan hadn't expected would be on his agenda…yet it was. And, although the young man felt slightly uncomfortable just standing in the hallway, part of him didn’t mind. Ethan was starting to wonder if Mark was even awake. After all, it wouldn’t be extremely out of the ordinary, considering how early in the morning it was. The young man paused, about to reach his hand into his back pocket to send Mark a text, before he heard the sound of someone walking to the door. Ethan shifted, his eyes widening slightly when the door opens it quickly. 

Mark was standing on the other side, obviously. He was wearing his pajamas; loosely fitted pastel blue and white striped, vertical of course, pajamas. The older man had a simple pair of white socks to match. His hair was close to an absolute mess, the young man had to admit…but it looked somewhat decent, which was almost surprising. Ethan gave an awkward smile, opening his mouth to say something, but he found himself tensing up as he was pulled into a quick hug. The man stood there simply for a few seconds, feeling Mark wrap his arms around his back. After another few seconds, however, the young man relaxes into his touch. The brunette hesitantly wraps his arms loosely against Mark’s shoulders, resting his chin lightly on his shoulder as he feels Mark hug him tighter. “Easy there big guy,” Ethan joked, letting out a soft huff of laughter. “I don’t want to pass out on ya.” Mark’s grip doesn’t let out, though; he simply let out a soft sigh, continuing to hold Ethan close. The young brunette had to admit, it was a comforting feeling. It had been about a month since he had actually had a hug. After a few seconds, the young man felt Mark pull away. The older man had tears in his eyes.

“Hey,” Ethan murmured softly, giving a weak, reassuring smile. “Don’t get all sappy on me, dude.”

Mark let out a soft huff of laughter, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, before using his wrist. “You’re right, you’re right,” the older man admitted, sniffling a bit as he blinked heavily. The young man let out a soft huff of laughter, resting his hands on his hips. Mark stepped aside awkwardly, giving a weak smile. “You can, uh, come in if you’d like. For a few minutes.” The young man gave a small smile, a simple nod of his head following. Ethan took a step into the apartment, humming underneath his breath. “I…uh, thanks for coming over, dude,” Mark admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I…I haven’t had a hug in years.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “ _Years_?” He questioned.

Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. “I mean, not from anyone besides Charlotte,” the older man admitted, shrugging his shoulders simply. He took a few steps back before he leaned back against his couch, hesitantly sitting down. “Kaitlyn…well, I guess she used to be the only one who hugged me. In the morning before I went to work…when I got home…on the couch…even when we slept. I…I guess I kinda just missed the feeling of being able to _hug someone_. Even if it’s just a friend hug.” Mark gave a small smile, glancing up from his hands. 

“Dude…shoulda told me _sooner_ ,” Ethan joked dramatically. He gave a grin before he hesitantly walked to the chair, sitting down and resting his elbows on his knees. “If you ever need a friend hug, I mean, you can always ask me to. I work for you, after all. You’re my _boss_. I gotta do what you say.” Mark rolled his eyes playfully, crossing his arms loosely against his chest as he leaned back against the couch. “Although…you’re probably gonna have to pay me extra for it.” Mark gave him a look. “I’m kidding!”

“Watch your mouth, I’ll cut your paycheck,” Mark returned teasingly.

Ethan gave a playful gasp. “Jail,” he hissed between his teeth. The older man tossed his head back, laughing softly. The young man noticed how he seemingly relaxed a bit, obviously less tense than he was when he had first answered the door. The brunette sighed contently. God, it was just so _easy_ talking with him. “I mean, I guess that’s what friends are for, huh?” He asked, smiling softly. “Hugs.”

“Obviously,” Mark returned, a playful scoff escaping his lips. Ethan tilted his head back slightly, partly gazing at the ceiling. “I’ve never…I can’t _remember_ the last time I’ve had a hug from a friend, really. This may sound crazy, I know,” he gave a shit-eating grin, “but…I don’t have any friends. Besides you. No one from work really, I wouldn’t consider them my friends…I don’t really like _interacting_ with them, or anything. I mean, I kinda know Becky…not really, though. We’ve talked before.”

“I know,” Ethan chuckled softly. “Your daughter told me. About the whole…no friends thing.”

Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. “Can’t tell kids anything,” he mentioned softly. The young man shrugged in return, a smile on his face before he reluctantly nodding his head. They sat there in silence for a few seconds. “You…should probably get going,” the older man admitted, sitting up slightly on the couch and clearing his throat. “Thank you, though. Really. Sorry if this was…. _awkward_.”

“No, really,” the young man assured him in return, a half-smile visible on his face. “It’s fine. I…I didn’t mind it, actually.” He gave an awkward chuckle. Mark gave a playful roll of his eyes. “Honest!” Ethan insisted, giggling softly as he stood up from his chair. “You’re a good hugger.”

“I’m good at everything,” Mark replied cockily.

“Especially good at ice skating,” the young man scoffed. The older man gave a half-smile, rolling his eyes in return. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Er, today. In a few hours? I think. Right? Yeah?” He gave an awkward laugh, smiling shyly for a few seconds. “Yeah,” he continued, giving a justified nod. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You’re right, I should get going now,” he admitted, humming softly. Mark got up from the couch. “It was really nice seeing you, though. I know I was supposed to be helping _you_ , but…I guess it kinda helped me too.” The older man smiled, stepping forward and wrapping him in a hug again. This time, Ethan didn’t tense up. He relaxed into his touch, smiling softly. “Thanks…” he whispered.

“That’s what friends are for,” Mark returned reassuringly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all the support on Baby of Mine. I just couldn't help but add some interaction between Mark and Ethan and continue where the chapter left off last time, instead of doing a time jump. Things are going to start picking up speed. Feelings are going to be formed, just you wait. It won't be this slow forever. The first 15 chapters or so were really just to help set the background. When I say it out loud...it's a lot, lol. But, in the grand scheme of things, maybe not.  
> As I was saying, thank you for all the kudos + comments. Some of you guys are really out here writing essay lengthed comments, and it makes me so happy being able to read all of them! Of course, I love seeing familiar faces. It's nice to know that so many people enjoy reading Baby of Mine as much as I enjoy writing it. And WOW, y'all are REALLY analyzing shit. Like, oh my goodness. You're including your own little opinions, and the small things you noticed that I added in, and what you liked about the chapter. It just wrms my heart knowing you guys care so much about B.o.M
> 
> I spent a lot of time outside today, which was why the chapter didn't continue the streak. However, writing on my balcony was nice, an I finally finished a few of my sketches for the clothing in the Hunger Games fic. 
> 
> Kudos + Comments are *always* appreciated.  
> Thank you,  
> Simply!


	18. The Boy Who Cried Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for:  
> \- 5000 Hits  
> \- 40 User Subscriptions  
> \- Literally everyone who is pouring their heart and soul into a comment, you guys make my day

Mark sighed softly, pressing send on his email before he allowed himself to sit back ever so slightly in his office chair, cringing from how obviously stiff his back was. He supposed he would have to start focusing on his posture while he was working, especially considering that he rarely took breaks in between writing emails, reviewing financial records, all while checking to make sure what they had written in their statements. It was all frustrating, Mark knew that well enough. He hated being slumped over a keyboard for the majority of his day, listening to nothing but his own mutters of frustration, the clicking of keys underneath his fingers, as well as the occasional tap of a mouse as he navigated it across the screen. Everything was just repetitive, of course. Mark was rarely chosen to work and collaborate on important company projects, so his job just ended up being the same thing every day. He supposed he had gotten used to the repetitive feeling, of course. He had gotten used to knowing that every day he would arrive to complete the same task as always. No one expected more from him, after all. The older man would just go through his cycle; the only time he ever seemed to deviate from it was when he skipped lunch to work longer, so he wouldn’t have to stay after hours.

Every day was the same. Mark would arrive to work a few minutes after he left his apartment. He would give the receptionist a simple nod in the lobby, never really bothering to say ‘good morning’ because everyone knew that mornings were hardly _good_. He would take the stairs up to his floor, only three floors up, and he would go to his cubicle. Nothing really special, he supposed. Mark wouldn’t say hello to anyone, and no one would say hello to him. After all, it wasn’t like they were friends; they were simply co-workers…co-workers who had no business getting to know each other. Mark would then sit down at his desk, resting his briefcase underneath it and pulling out any records that he hadn’t finished the day before, or all the paperwork he would have to distribute to his boss; the ones he had finished, of course, which he would place in a separate table bin. Mark would work for the rest of the day, accepting an occasional phone call from his desk, but there was really nothing more to it. He usually had a lunch break, which he would eat in his cubicle, but sometimes he just skipped lunch. Mark just didn’t have the time for it, after all. If he had to choose between eating lunch and going home on time, he would rather go home on time. Of course, sometimes he would skip lunch so he could get _extra_ work done, just so he could get the chance of going home earlier the following day.

Some of the highlights of his day, however, were when he heard his phone dinging softly from beside him. Since he didn’t really, well, _have_ any other friends who texted him, he always knew that it was a message from Ethan. Usually, it was just the occasional update about what his daughter was doing, sometimes including a picture of a drawing she had made for him, always signed in pink. Most of them were centered around scribbled in drawings of hearts, alongside a lopsided rainbow, all tied together with a scribble that barely looked like a golden retriever, although Mark knew well enough what it was due to the context. The man supposed that was all his daughter had been asking about for the past two weeks, about the extent that Ethan had been helping babysit her. Of course, there wasn’t much that he could tell his daughter. Telling her that they weren’t financially stable enough to not only afford a puppy, but take care of it, was something that the man had always struggled to do. It wasn’t easy letting Charlotte’s hopes down, he supposed. So, instead, he would always return the questions with a simple ‘I’ll think about it’, leaving enough hope in her heart for her to stop asking, just for the next hour or two. 

Mark supposed that having a dog around the house would be nice, although he didn’t quite know who would take care of it. Well, he did know. Even if they _did_ get a puppy, Ethan would most likely be the one taking care of it throughout the day, which Mark could only assume would be difficult whilst the dog was still young. The young man would be expected to take the dog outside, clean up after accidents…it wasn’t something that Mark just wanted to hand off to someone else, even though he knew Ethan would be so reluctant to do it. But, as he mentioned, he supposed a golden retriever would be nice. Mark cleared his throat, glancing down at the time on his phone. 8:47. Where had the time in the day gone? The older man wasn’t completely sure, but he knew well enough that he would have to be getting home soon; after all, Mark never liked having to have Ethan staying at the apartment longer than he needed to. Not because Mark didn’t like him; no, of course not. He just didn’t like knowing that Ethan had to stay away from his own apartment for so long. Of course, it wasn’t like Ethan wasn’t getting _paid_.

Mark leaned forward at his desk, humming softly underneath his breath as he shifted the mouse, reaching to shut his computer down. He listened to the mouse clicking as he went, letting out an almost inaudible sigh as he pressed _Save As_ repeatedly, marking all of his untitled documents down as something random; something he probably wouldn’t remember the following day. Of course, he supposed that would be tomorrow’s problem. For the time being, it seemed like keyboard scam was the perfect example of an ideal document title for the copy of financial records he knew well enough would be needed for future access. Once he had saved all of his documents, which there were about ten of, considering he was never the type to clear out his screen, he was able to shut down his computer. The man leaned back in his office chair again, running a hand through his hair and letting out a sigh, although this time it was out of relief. Mark tilted his head back slightly, glancing up to the ceiling calmly. He could hear the sounds of keyboards clicking from neighboring cubicles; those belonged to the people who had been just as loaded with work as he had been, except they had decided to take their lunch break. Although the older man pitied those who had to work longer, he supposed that was just how it was. 

He found his eyes glancing over to the framed picture that he had placed beside his computer. Mark smiled slightly, shifting to get a better look. He knew what the photograph depicted, of course; it was something that the man found himself looking at during the toughest parts of his days, where the only thing on his mind was quitting. God, that was all Mark thought about half the time… _quitting_. Half the time, it felt as if that was just what everyone was silently asking of him. _To quit_. To just give up on everything he was working on, which happened to be centered around getting a promotion. Mark wasn’t stupid…he knew that other co-workers acknowledged his sudden interest in the upcoming promotion, and he also knew that nobody thought he would be able to get it. With everything, he supposed, there were competitors; people who were out for the same goal he was, their arms outstretched just the same, and they were willing to climb over anyone they could to get away from rock bottom. It was everyone’s dream, Mark guessed. To stop working in a cubicle? To get an office of their own, and be able to have people working underneath them? Obviously to get a better paycheck, one that wouldn’t be completely spent on necessity, where anything left over would only be saved for the following month’s rent and necessities. Mark smiled at the thought.

However, of course…the photograph of him and Charlotte on the desk always reminded Mark why he couldn’t just quit. Why he couldn’t just give in to the feeling of being ignored and overlooked, constantly pushed aside and left astray…all so he could watch someone else receive a title he could have sworn he would be given; all so he could return to his cubicle and take a heavy breath in attempts to calm himself down, holding in all of his frustration. Whenever Mark looked at the photo…he remembered that quitting would mean not being able to support him and his daughter. That was a thought that he couldn’t bear imagining for even a second longer. Just the notion of it was enough to upset him. So, he would bottle everything up; the frustration of his job, and the pressure he felt being placed on him, and everything else that came with his occupation. It reminded him to take a deep breath, something Mark didn’t do often enough. Mark reached over for the photograph, holding the frame carefully in his hand as he drew it close to himself. He sighed softly, looking down at his daughter smiling, her almond eyes bright and crinkled with content. The older man’s gaze lingered on it for a few seconds more before he reluctantly placed it back beside his computer monitor. Mark pushed his office chair slightly away from his desk, reaching down underneath to grab his briefcase. He gave a content sigh as he pulled it onto his laps swiveling to exit his cubicle. However, the man flinched in his chair when he noticed his boss standing near the exit of his cubicle.

“Hi, sorry,” Mark managed quickly, giving an awkward smile as he shifted on his seat. He glanced to his phone, picking it up and carefully slipping it into his briefcase. “I was just leaving, sir. I’ve got everything for today’s agenda completed; all the financial records were checked, everything matches up. I started a bit more on tomorrow’s schedule, so that should be up early on your desk by tomorrow afternoon. Unless you would rather I come into work tomorrow morning, which I can do, possibly.” He gave a soft nervous laugh; the man had always felt uncomfortable around his boss. He wasn’t sure why, of course, but it was just always something he had held onto ever since he had first accepted the position. His boss, Eric Crowe, was one of the men who had always overlooked him, and had never bothered informing him of future positions that were opening higher up in the business. Mark wasn’t quite sure if Mr. Crowe was aware of the discomfort his employee felt around him, but, if he did, at least they were aware of it. Mark sat there simply for a few more seconds, watching as Eric just smiled and paused.

“Well, as much as I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Eric mentioned, chuckling softly as he folded his arms loosely across his chest, “I’m not here to reprimand you for anything. Don’t look so _tense._ ” Mark didn’t even realize his shoulders were no longer relaxed, which he quickly fixed, leaning back into his office desk chair ever so slightly, just so he didn’t appear so stressed. Eric hummed softly. “I actually came here to remind you that there’s going to be a meeting next week, and Mr. Brennan was hoping he would see you there. You know, _my_ boss.” The man nodded in understanding, sitting up slightly in his chair. “You know, I’ve never really heard Mr. Brennan _request_ to see anyone in a meeting, especially someone who finds themselves occupied on the bottom level. I think he’s taken an interest in you, if I’m going to be completely honest. He doesn't have complete say over who will get the upcoming promotion…but his word _severely_ impacts the decisions that are going to be made soon. If you want your name to be mentioned…I would consider preparing some notes on the company’s recent percentages. Just something you can present if questioned.”

Mark felt himself straightening his posture, trying to hold his composure in attempts to not beam as wide as he wanted to. God, this was wonderful news. Work was never something that had brought exciting news. It was usually news that the company would be firing select individuals again, where the man would always be worried that his position could be replaced. After all, what he did wasn’t exactly a skill no one else obtained. However, for once in his life…this was good. It wasn’t an exact promise that the position would be his, but Eric said it himself: Mr. Brennan never requested anyone to be present in meetings. Surely Mark was someone he considered something special. “Of-Of course,” the man stammered, a visible grin on his face as he looked to Eric. “I’ll start writing something as soon as I get home. Did he…did he really ask for _me_? Just me in particular? No one else?” He didn’t want to seem like he was so entirely eager, but he couldn’t help himself. 

Eric smiled a bit, giving a confirming nod of his head. “I can promise you that he _only_ asked for you," his voice simple and truthful as he rested his hands on his hips. “Although, again, this isn’t really a guarantee that the position will go to you. After all, there are several other employees who are potential candidates for this opportunity. Mr. Brennan might appreciate your character, but I’m not 100% sure if he’ll be willing to just completely overlook your current job status. After all…working at a cubicle isn’t one of the job requirements.” Mark held his composure, a simple nod of his head following as he kept the smile on his face. It wasn’t the first time, he supposed. “It would be nice to see you move up in the industry, though…believe me when I tell you that. You’ve worked in a cubicle for quite some time now. Surely you too would appreciate a change in atmosphere. Something more… _comfortable_?” Mark smiled a bit, another nod of his head following. That was _all_ he had ever wanted. “Different responsibilities too, I suppose.”

“Believe me, it would be nice to get out of this cubicle,” Mark admitted sheepishly, a simple shrug of his shoulders following. He gave a small sigh, pursing his lips for a few seconds before he eventually stood to his feet, holding his briefcase tightly in his right hand and giving a simple nod of his head. “Well, I should really get going,” he mentioned, smiling softly. “Gotta get back to my daughter, you know?”

“Oh, have you got a girlfriend looking after Charlotte now?” Eric questioned thoughtfully, leaning on the wall of the cubicle and crossing his arms slightly again. He gave a small smile, cocking his head as he awaited a response. Mark had almost forgotten entirely how much Eric knew about his personal life; he supposed that was his own fault for sharing so much with his boss. Mark gave an awkward chuckle, a simple shake of his head following.

“No, a boy,” he managed. Mark quickly cleared his throat. “A babysitter,” he quickly corrected, an awkward smile spread across his face. “No, uh, romantic correlation. He’s just helping me look after Charlotte for the time being. You know, daycare if difficult when it comes to picking her up and dropping her off; why the hassle, you know?” Eric nodded his head simply, although Mark knew well enough he _didn’t_ understand. His boss didn’t have children. “But, you know, I wouldn’t want him to stay at the apartment past his due date, especially since I’ve already finished and everything.” He gave a confident smile, pausing for a second before he reluctantly pushed past Eric, briefcase in hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose,” he mentioned thoughtfully.

“Well, tell your boyfriend I said hi,” Eric joked.

“Not my boyfriend,” Mark returned simply, giving a simple roll of his eyes before he ignored any more of his comments. The man hummed underneath his breath, passing by the other cubicles, all while glancing into them curiously. As he expected, most people were still working. A majority of their work had been sliced into, of course, stacks of paper piled up in the ‘finished’ section; however, there were still sheets of paper that were yet to be looked over. It was enough work to take at least another hour and a half, Mark could just tell. Most of the other employees were fiddling with their pen, squinting their eyes as they slumped over their keyboard, examining the numbers on the screen before glancing down at the ones on their sheet of paper. The man could only give them sympathetic looks as he continued walking, finally deciding on keeping his eyes forward, instead of lingering on the people and contents of other cubicles. He made his way to the stairwell, pushing open the door with his shoulder before he entered the stairwell. 

Mark perked up slightly when he heard a muffled dinging noise from pithing his briefcase. His phone. The man stopped on the stairs, carefully sifting his hand through the pocket before retrieving his device. Sure enough, a new message from Ethan. Mark unlocked his phone, tapping on Ethan’s content as soon as he had opened the iMessage app; he smiled as soon as he saw the text.

> **E:** Just had to stop Char from cutting her own hair with scissors. I swear, she’s trying to get me in trouble, lol

Mark rolled his eyes playfully, holding onto the railing with his right hand whilst shakily texting back with his left. He supposed that was in Charlotte’s nature, of course. She was awfully curious, and he guessed that she would try to use any tool that was in her reach: including safety scissors. Mark wasn’t quite sure how she had gotten ahold of them, of course, but he no longer seemed to question anything she did. The older man finally sent back a text, reminding Ethan that he should be at the apartment in a few minutes. He grinned softly as he continued his way down the stairs, a bounce in each step. Mark was in an awfully good mood, to say the least. Being able to go home a little earlier…being told that Mr. Brennan had asked for him to be present at the meeting…knowing that he would be beyond prepared to present a speech if needed. God, the promotion was practically in his hands, he could already feel it. He could already imagine how simpler everything would be once he finally had it. Well…if he finally got it. Mark knew he shouldn’t be getting so ahead of himself; daydreaming of what his future could be for the company would get him nowhere. If anything, he needed to focus more than ever before. He would have to work more…before, he had been simply looked over. Now that people were finally starting to notice his potential…God, he couldn’t even imagine how difficult all of this would going to be.

The days leading up to the date of the promotion would be harder than the job itself, Mark realized. It was one of those situations where things would get worse before they got better…things would be hard before they became easier; less complex. Mark supposed he would have to inform Ethan of that, considering he could already see himself having to work later than usual, just so he could impress Eric…who would hopefully mention his name once or twice again around Mr. Brennan. He knew that the young man would hardly have any complaints, which was something Mark still didn’t understand about Ethan. He was always so willing to do anything he could to help. It was adorable, in a way; his eagerness to be so understanding of everything. Charlotte, on the other hand, would be slightly harder to convince. She would be stubborn, as always…but there wasn’t really any way Mark could compromise with her. This wasn’t as simple as figuring out how many picture books they were going to read…it was more serious. There weren’t really any _options_ to it; he knew that no matter what Charlotte said, he would have to remind her that sometimes his job took up most of his day. Mark sucked in a soft breath as he pushed out of the lobby, exiting to the city. He exhaled contently, a visible smile on his face as he took a sharp turn to continue down the sidewalk.

Mark walked down the sidewalk happily, glancing around him. He never really took in the sights on the way to and from work while he was commuting. It was just never something that crossed his mind…he had been supposedly _immune_ to the wondrous sights around him. Of course, when he had first moved to New York, he had been just like every other tourist. Mark used to tilt his head back at the sight of every skyscraper, standing in the middle of the sidewalk and allowing people to just flood past him, like he was parting the Red Sea or something. His eyes would glimmer with wonder whenever he used to watch the sun reflect off of the windows…they didn’t do that anymore. The _reason_ he had moved to the city was because of Kaitlyn…now the only reason Mark was staying was because of his job. He supposed that wasn’t exactly the most _beautiful_ thing…and he could also assume that was the reason why the city didn’t hold as much wonder as it used to. Nevertheless, Mark stopped walking for a few seconds, not paying any attention to the few mutters of frustration he received by people who were abruptly stopped behind him. He allowed himself to take a steady breath, glancing up at one of the buildings he had once considered so exciting…and he just allowed himself to take everything in. The sunlight reflecting, the windows that snaked all the way up, the few people he could see in the windows. _Everything_. Mark thought about Ethan for a few seconds…he supposed the young man experienced this feeling every day. And, surprisingly, when Mark was thinking about Ethan…the city became magical again. Instead of just a bunch of skyscrapers, it was a jungle of steel and glass that stretched for miles.

For just a few more seconds, it was as if he was taken back to when he was younger. To when he had first started exploring New York. The feeling of bliss he had experienced when he had looked up at the Chrysler Building for the first time, his eyes wide and his lips curved into a faint smile. Mark stood there on the sidewalk, holding his briefcase in his hand and just looking up. There was the occasional ‘ _we’ve all seen it before, nothing special’_ and _‘keep walking jackass’_ , but the man ignored it. After a few seconds, Mark let out a content sigh, refocusing his attention on the sidewalk ahead of him. Although it was nice to just take a second for himself, just to look at the city, the man remembered that he had his daughter to be getting home to. So, with a heavy breath, Mark returned on his way, occasionally glancing at the buildings as he walked; his heart beat steadily in his chest, delivering a consistent smile as he made his commute from work to his apartment. Usually, the only thing on the man’s mind after getting out of work was the dread that the following day would bring, unless of course, it was Friday. However, for the first time in his entire career…Mark was excited to return to work the following day. The opportunity could be is…it _would_ be his…all he had to do was show them what he was really made of.

After another few minutes, Mark was at his apartment complex. He hummed happily. The older man couldn’t wait to tell Ethan about everything his boss had said. That was the wonderful thing about him being friends with Ethan…the young man was willing to stay a little bit after Mark got home; the two weren’t awkward around each other anymore. It was a wonderful thing. The young man seemed to be more like _himself_ now…less tense, more relaxed, slowly become adjusted to everything. Mark couldn’t blame him, after all, for not exactly become completely _comfortable_ with everything as soon as he first started babysitting for him. After all, they hadn’t quite known each other…at least, not as well as they did now. After all, it had been a little over two weeks since Ethan had started coming over daily, apart from the weekends, and they would always find time to text in between. It was a wonderful feeling, really, being able to have a friend. Mark was just started to recognize that, of course. Before, the feeling of being so _incredibly_ lonely was just something he had become accustomed to…it was something he had deemed normal ever since Kaitlyn left. But, with Ethan…he didn’t feel lonely anymore. He felt as if there was truly someone looking out for him, and that was one of the greatest feelings.

Mark pressed the button to his floor once he reached the elevator, humming softly. He hadn’t received any more news from Ethan over the past few minutes, so he supposed everything must have been going just fine. After all, the young man would have messaged him if something had done wrong; at least, Mark liked to hope so. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as the elevator journeyed up. After a few more seconds, he had reached his floor. Mark paused, waiting for the doors to open before he slipped into the hallway, taking the sharp turn as he always did before he made his way to his apartment. The man set his briefcase down on the ground, crouching down carefully and beginning to carefully sift his hand through one of the pockets. Eventually, he fished out his keys. Mark stood up, humming underneath his breath as he unlocked the door, listening to the satisfying click before he opened it. Surprisingly, Charlotte and Ethan were both in the living room. The young girl was holding an assortment of markers, and Ethan was on the couch…his face absolutely scribbled all over with them. Mark attempted to stifle his laughter, not knowing what he was supposed to say as he scooted his briefcase into the apartment, slipping in after and closing the door behind him.

“Looks like _someone’s_ busy,” Mark mentioned. Ethan glanced over at him, flushing a bit with embarrassment before giving a nod. The older man took a step forward, not knowing what he was supposed to say, simply grinning like an idiot once he got a closer look. For one, Ethan’s eyelids were covered with both indigo and orchid marker, slightly underneath his eye too; Mark was surprised that the young man hadn’t been blinded by ink. His cheeks were a parakeet green, mixed in with violet, crimson, and taffy pink. His forehead had been scribbled on with orange, and Charlotte simply looked proud of herself as she capped a butterscotch yellow parker, which she had streaked pridefully on his chin. Mark chuckled softly, watching as Ethan gave a simple shrug, almost as if he had expected everything to play through as such. “Are those washable?” He questioned, folding his arms loosely over his chest and cocking his eyebrow, genuinely curious himself. Ethan’s eyes widened slightly as he glanced over to Charlotte, a worried gaze in his eye.

“Charlotte, these are washable, right?” Ethan asked. Mark would tell he was attempting to remain collected, but anyone smart enough could see the glimmer of panic in his eye. The older man let out a snort before he laughed softly, watching as Charlotte shrugged her shoulders before reaching for the box of markers. She looked down at it for a few seconds, obviously attempting to read what was on the cardboard. Ethan sat there awkwardly, glancing from Mark to Charlotte as he awaited a response.

“Uh…yeah,” Charlotte announced.

“Yes,” Ethan returned to Mark simply, a shit-eating grin on his face. The older man simply rolled his eyes. Sometimes the young man could be awfully unbelievable, that was for sure. “Oh, I don’t know what you’re rolling your eyes over,” the young man continued simply, his voice littered with a faux offense as he looked up with Mark, almost as if he was confused as to why Mark was reacting like that. “If anything, I think I look like a work of art. Wouldn’t you agree, Charlotte?” He glanced at Charlotte, who giggled softly, shyly nodding her head.

“Yeah, you look like a Picasso painting,” Mark scoffed. Ethan smiled shyly. “From his _cubism_ days, buddy, I don’t think that’s anything to brag about.”

“Did you know that one of Picasso’s easiest paintings, which only took him a day, was sold for one hundred million dollars?” Ethan questioned, his face genuine. Mark rested his hands on his hips before shaking his head. “Well, it’s the truth, and I’ve basically got one hundred million dollars plastered _right_ on my face. Besides, Charlotte thinks I look pretty, and that’s all that matters.” The young girl nodded happily, shifting to sit next to Ethan on the couch. He smiled softly, glancing at Mark with a faux look of innocence. “Don’t you think I’m pretty, Mark?”

Mark didn’t know what to say for a few seconds, his heart fluttering in his chest. That was… _odd_. He looked back at Ethan plainly for a few seconds, rolling his eyes playfully before crossing his arms again. “Whatever you say, dude,” he returned simply. Ethan grinned. “But…if you’re worth a hundred million dollars…surely you don’t need the paycheck I have in my briefcase, right? After all, you-”

“Oh, believe me, I _will_ be needing that,” Ethan retorted quickly. Mark chuckled softly, nodding his head as he turned on his heels, walking over to his briefcase. “So, how was work?” He questioned curiously. Mark didn’t respond for a few seconds as he kneeled by his briefcase, looking for the envelope from the bank he had gotten that very morning, filled with the cash for Ethan’s paycheck for that day and the previous day, since he had forgotten. “I mean, you’re back earlier than usual, so surely something must have gone right.” Mark chuckled softly, pulling away from his briefcase before he walked back to the couch.

“Things went _exceptionally_ well,” Mark mentioned, a sly grin on his face as he handed Ethan his envelope. The young man smiled, raising his eyebrows almost in surprise as he rested it beside him, crossing his arms loosely across his chest. Ethan pursed his lips, thinking for a few seconds before his eyes lit up with wonder.

“You got the promotion, didn’t you?” Ethan asked eagerly.

Mark let out a dramatic sigh. “Why do you always gotta overplay everything?” He pretended to complain. Ethan gave a playful shrug, smiling a bit as he waited for Mark to finally reply with what _truly_ happened. “I _basically_ got the promotion, though,” he continued thoughtfully, which gained a smile from the young man nevertheless. 

“Tell me everything,” Ethan insisted. He reached out for Mark’s wrist, pulling him beside him on the couch. Mark let out a playful remark of annoyance before he sat beside him. “And I mean _everything_. In full detail.” 

“I will, I will, chill out,” Mark returned, giving a playful roll of his eyes. He felt Ethan scoot a little closer. “Okay, _basically_ ,” the older man continued, “my boss, Eric, told me that _his_ boss was asking me to make an appearance at the meeting. Now, this may sound completely normal, if it weren’t for the fact that Eric’s boss, supposedly, _never_ asks for anyone to appear at meetings. Apparently, his word has a _big_ impact on who gets chosen for the promotion. If he likes me, that means I’ll be able to have a huge chance at the promotion. Not only that, but Eric mentioned how I could prepare a presentation for the meeting, just in case I’m asked to talk about our records and where the company is leaning toward…God, this is basically it, Eth. The promotion is so close, I can literally _taste it_.” Ethan chuckled softly, smiling gently. 

“What’s it taste like?” Ethan asked jokingly.

Mark scoffed. “Success.”

“Ah, I shoulda known that,” the young man replied jokingly. He smiled a bit. God, it was almost hard to take him seriously with the assortment of color scribbled miscellaneously across his face. “Admiring the artwork, huh?” Ethan contained, a shit-eating grin as the older man rolled his eyes in return. “It’s okay, you can admit it. After all, it’s your daughter’s work after all. I take no credit for anything, and insulting it would be insulting her talent.” He smiled softly, leaning back on the couch before he let out a soft sigh. “I should probably get going,” Ethan continued gently, pursing his lips before giving a shy smile. “I’ll leave you to your presentation and all.” The young man hummed softy as he stood to his feet, almost stumbling over.

“You okay?” Mark questioned quickly, a visible look of concern on his face as he looked at the young man. However, Ethan quickly nodding his head, swallowing thick as he found his balance against the coffee table.

“Yeah, just a little bit dizzy,” Ethan admitted. “I think I just stood up too fast,” he continued quickly, a simple shrug of his shoulders following before he sucked in a small breath a justified nod following. “You know the thing where you stand up quicker than usual, and then you get all the dark blotched over your eyes, and you can’t see anything for a little bit?” Mark chuckled softly, giving a hesitant nod of his head. He supposed he did. “Well, it was that,” Ethan mentioned. He regained his composure, reaching over carefully for the envelope before holding it close. “Well, Mark, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Same time as usual?” Mark nodded his head in confirmation. “Perfect then.”

“Say goodbye, Charlotte,” Mark reminded his daughter gently.

Charlotte shifted slyly next to her father before she gave a wave of her hand. “Bye,” she giggled softly, still looking at the color all over his face. “Your face is still messy,” she pointed out, pursing her lips. Mark chuckled softly, following her gaze. “Wanna wash it off?”

“Wash it _off_?” Ethan gasped, a faux look of offense as he had before. Mark couldn’t help but smile. God, he was so good around kids. The older man could hardly even understand it. “Charlotte, one does simply not wash off _art_. This thing is staying on my face until the end of the day. How does that sound?” The young girl giggled softly, nodding her head eagerly as she shifted on the couch. “Perfect. And, tomorrow, you can draw everything back on my face.” Charlotte squealed happily. Mark glanced from her to Ethan, his eyes softening slightly. He absolutely adored the way the young man acted around her…how carefree he was, yet so mindful of everything he said; always doing everything he could to make her smile. Mark had really never seen anything like it…not even from Kaitlyn. Not even Charlotte’s own mother had treated her as such…it was nice to see Charlotte get treated as such, even if it was from someone who wasn’t family. “Well, I really should be going,” he continued, smiling at Mark for a few seconds before he turned on his heels. “See you guys tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow, rainbow face!” Mark joked.

Ethan smiled softly as he opened the door. “What can I say?” He chuckled. “I’ve got pride.”

Mark sat up slightly on the couch, opening his mouth to say something before the door was evidently closed. Charlotte slid off the couch, thinking nothing of it as she reached over to the coffee table, starting to put all of her markers away. The older man cleared his throat before he knelt down beside her, smiling as he assisted her with putting away the markers. “Did you have fun today?” The man questioned softly, his voice gentle. Charlotte giggled softly, nodding her head in confirmation. “That’s good,” he mentioned, closing the cardboard _Crayola_ box of markers as soon as the two of them had completed storing then.

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte giggled.

“Well, we’re having leftovers tonight,” Mark mentioned softly, giving an awkward smile, his eyes softening slightly. He knew well enough his daughter wasn’t a fan of leftovers, but at least the food from the previous night had been good. “So, how about you put away the rest of your stuffed animals and I’ll get dinner ready. _And_ , to finish up tonight, I’ll read you _two_ stories of choice. How does that sound?” Charlotte smiled a bit in return, pursing her lips before nodding her head. Mark smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Good girl.”

“I don’t wanna have dinner, though,” Charlotte mentioned softly. The older man cocked his eyebrow slightly, not quite sure what he was supposed to say in return to that.

“Did you have a snack?” Mark questioned. That was something that had happened to the young girl before, where she had spoiled her dinner by eating a snack too close to when it was time to have a meal. However, Charlotte simply shook her head, which left the man more confused than he was before. He shifted slightly on the floor, standing to his feet as he looked down at his daughter. “Then what’s the problem, honey?” He asked softly, resting his hands on his knees to get more on her level. “If you’re upset about leftovers, it’s only for tonight. I _promise_ , and you know I always keep promises. I just want to get the most out of what we have in the fridge. We wouldn’t want anything to go to waste.” He feared his throat, pausing. “So, what seems to be the problem?” He questioned.

“Well, _Ethan_ doesn’t eat,” Charlotte mentioned. Mark sighed. The same excuse.

“Honey, what do you mean by Ethan doesn’t eat?” He asked. He knew well enough that it was just some fib his daughter had made up in attempts of getting out of eating something she didn’t want, but he supposed he would listen. “Besides, honey. What did daddy tell you about comparing yourself to Ethan? You’re not him, he’s not you.”

“I know,” Charlotte murmured. “But he _doesn’t_. Why do I gotta?”

“Charlotte,” Mark reminded his daughter sternly, sitting carefully at the edge of the couch. He sighed softly, taking a small breath afterward. “What have you and I gone over about lying?” Charlotte opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly cut her off. “ _What_ did I tell you about lying?” His voice was serious as he looked at his daughter.

“But-”

“ _Lying_ is something that can be very hurtful,” Mark reminded his daughter, whose shoulders slumped in return when she was cut off.“When daddy asks you to tell the truth, he _means it_. Because when you lie, I can’t trust you as much anymore. Do you remember the story about the boy and the sheep? The one who would cry wolf?” Charlotte whimpered a bit, obviously upset. “I can’t trust you if you lie. I wanna trust you, honey, I really do. But when-”

“I’m not lying!” Charlotte insisted with exasperation.

“Charlotte-”

“I’m not!” The young girl repeated. Mark opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly closed it when he realized how… _miserable_ his daughter looked. Her eyes had softened, almost at the brink of tears as she looked up at her father in attempts of getting him to understand. So, the man said nothing, allowing his daughter to speak. “He doesn’t eat. Not lunch. Not snacks. He doesn’t. I gotta _ask him_ so many times. A lot of times. More than…more than this,” she continued, holding up both her hands to indicate over ten times. Mark shifted on the couch, swallowing thickly as he waited for his daughter to continue. The man didn’t know what he was even supposed to say. “I _swear_. I’m not lying.” Mark thought about everything for a few seconds. It didn’t make any sense…Ethan seemed perfectly healthy. Surely he wasn’t the type of guy to just… _skip meals_. Mark’s eyes widened. Headaches. Dizziness. He thought about it for a few seconds, looking at Charlotte.

“Thank you for telling me,” Mark breathed out softly, opening and closing his mouth in attempts to choke out another statement. He didn’t know what to say. “I…I’m sorry, I didn't know any better,” he continued, apologizing for not believing his daughter. The young girl nodded hesitantly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Mark gave a weak smile. “You gotta eat, honey, okay?” He didn’t know how he was supposed to explain Ethan’s eating pattern to his daughter. It…well, if it was what he thought it was, it was nothing she should be introduced to. “Ethan is just a little sick, Charlotte. That’s why he doesn’t eat. But, you’re not sick, which is why you gotta eat, okay?” Charlotte nodded hesitantly. “Honey, you gotta promise me that you’re gonna eat lunch when I’m not at home, okay? You haven’t been skipping meals too, have you?” Charlotte shook her head quickly, her eyes widening. “Good…” Mark breathed out. He leaned over, wrapping his arms gently around his daughter.

“I love you, Char…” he whispered softly, his voice breaking. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, okay?” Mark felt Charlotte nod hesitantly against him. He let out a soft sigh, nodding again. “Good…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all of the support on this fic! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I'm very excited to write the next one. Things are picking up speed, a little bit. Neither of them have officially developed feelings, but it's coming soon. I promise. Besides, we love a good subplot. Also....we reached 100k words! That's pretty good, I would say. These chapters are by far longer than the ones from Fifty Feet in the Air, so I'm glad you guys are getting more substance
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply
> 
> P.S.  
> What are your honest opinions of Charlotte? I personally love her, lol, but I guess I'm a lil bit bias


	19. Hungry Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! I'm back!  
> A little bit of angst here and there, you know? This fic is definitely going to have more angst than Fifty Feet in the Air did, especially considering the backstories. Also, by the way, do you guys like the flashbacks? I personally enjoy writing them, but I would love to cater to what you guys like seeing, so I can work my way around everything for this.  
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

Ethan whistled softly underneath his breath, continuing to rinse off the plate from Charlotte’s lunch. He glanced carefully at his phone, which he had rested beside him on the counter. 8:42. Still relatively early, Ethan supposed, although he had remembered how Mark had returned earlier the previous day. Surely that meant that today would be the same…if he had kept up the previous schedule at least. After all, Mark always alerted him when he had a meeting, that way he didn’t have to worry about the man coming home later than usual. It was always nice to have an estimated time of arrival; Ethan had always been the type to worry about that sort of thing. When he was younger, the thought of his mother being at the store longer than she said she would had frightened him. It was stupid, he knew that well enough, but it was just something that had followed with him to adulthood; just one of those things he had never managed to outgrow. It didn’t seem to be something that worried Charlotte, of course. Although she would occasionally question when her father would be coming home, she no longer seemed to be fazed by the fact that he wasn’t constantly there. Just something she was used to. Ethan supposed it wasn’t the most ideal of situations, although it was nice that she had become accustomed to Mark not being there constantly. 

Ethan had always thought about it before…but part of him still couldn’t quite comprehend how the young girl was just so… _compliant_ with everything. She never really seemed to complain. Of course, there was the one time she had insisted that she didn’t want lunch, but Ethan had shut down the idea immediately. Although Charlotte could be stubborn, she didn’t question being asked twice to do something. So, that day, the young girl had reluctantly eaten her lunch, and the young brunette had watched the entire time to make sure she had eaten everything. Thankfully it had only been on one occasion. Just children being stubborn, he supposed. However, it was really the only trouble Charlotte had ever given him. Sure, there was the time where she had attempted to cut her own hair with scissors, saying it would look pretty, or the time she suggested doing a flip off of the bed, insisting she knew how to do one. Ethan knew well enough that was just kids being kids, though.

The young brunette reached for the kitchen rag, holding the plate gingerly in his left hand as he dried it off. Ethan stood on his toes, placing it in the cabinet before giving a justified nod. He didn’t want to leave the house in disarray, of course. Whenever they took out stuffed animals, he gently reminded the young girl that they would have to put them back before the end of the day. Ethan just didn’t want Mark to have to come home to a messy house. After all, he already worked enough hours during the day, struggling so he would be able to have the chance at the upcoming promotion…the last thing he needed to worry about was cleaning the kitchen when he could be working on his upcoming presentation for the next meeting he had talked so fondly of. It seemed to be one of the only things on Mark’s mind, which was something Ethan quite frankly found adorable. When he had first arrived that morning, the only thing on the man’s face was an eager smile. He had practically been stumbling over himself to rush out the door and get to work. Ethan had never seen him as that…he had never seen _anyone_ that excited to return to a cubicle job. The young man was just waiting for the day where Mark returned from work just as excited as he had left, his eyes wide and filled with excitement before he explained how he had received a promotion. God, that was really all Ethan wanted. If the young man had one wish…it would be for Mark to finally be noticed at his job.

Ethan supposed that having a bit of self-confidence for himself would also be something he would ask for. It hadn’t exactly gotten worse, or anything…but it really hadn’t gotten any better. It was just sort of something that loomed over him constantly. He didn’t really even notice it was there until he paid attention to it. He _wished_ he could just ignore it for the rest of his life…just act like it wasn’t there. Even better, maybe be confident about the way he looked…confident about the way he felt whenever he was eating something. Being able to eat a granola bar around Charlotte without slightly turning his head in the other direction, because part of him felt _gross_ doing it in front of someone. It was stupid, Ethan knew that well enough…but he just couldn’t help it. And he knew that there were people who could help him if he just _told someone_ …but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t…and that was the part that frightened him. Ethan _knew_ there were people who _wanted_ to help him…he was just too afraid to reach out to them; to _anyone_. It wasn’t even something that Ethan wanted to mention around Mark or Sean…if he couldn’t talk about it with friends, surely he couldn’t talk about it with a stranger. The young man sighed softly leaning slightly against the counter and looking down into the sink…not even thinking about anything in particular. His hands gripped the edge of the counter before he took a deep breath, straightening up to glance over his left shoulder.

As he had expected, Charlotte was sitting contently on the couch, her legs kicking slightly. She held a coloring book close on her lap, a marker held loosely in her right hand as she scribbled away at the page. Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter, turning on his heels before leaning back against the counter, his gaze lingering on the young girl for a few more seconds. The two of them had mutually agreed that maybe drawing on his _face_ hadn’t been the best idea, and that paper would be better. Although the markers had indeed _said_ washable…that didn’t exactly mean the color came off easy. For almost an hour, the young man’s face had been stained with an assortment of rainbow shades as he scrubbed away at them vigorously, to the point where his cheeks were flush and raw when he had practically _scraped_ the colored skin off of his face. At least, that was what it had felt like. Of course, there was always the problem with having to walk home with it all over his face. No one really _stopped_ to look at him, of course, but there were always the people giving him looks of either confusion or disgust as they walked past him. That was never really helpful, Ethan supposed. So, instead, the young man suggested they stick to coloring books. And, of course, Charlotte had been eager to comply, insisting she would draw out of her princess coloring book. 

“Whatcha coloring?” Ethan called over from the kitchen, smiling softly as he cocked his head. The young girl smiled, glancing up from the coloring book on her lap. “Wait, wait, wait, let me guess,” the young man continued, pursing his lips as he took a dramatic thought, almost as if he was thinking. Charlotte shifted on the couch, waiting patiently. “I _think_ …” he continued, his voice trailing off before he gave a smile, “you’re coloring dinosaurs.” Charlotte giggled softly, shaking her head happily.

“Nu-uh,” she returned.

“No?” Ethan questioned, mock confusion littered in his voice. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before he bounced slightly, walking over to sit on the couch to sit next to her. “I could have _sworn_ you said you were coloring in dinosaurs. Are you sure?” Charlotte nodded, shifting over on the couch to make more room for him. Ethan sucked in a small breath before he practically tossed himself onto the couch, the young girl squealing happily as she bounced up slightly. The young man smiled, returning a kind gaze before he spotted beside her. He looked over at what she was coloring, giving a dramatic “oh” in return. “You’re drawing _princesses_ …same thing,” he joked. The young girl smiled, resting her marker down on the coffee table before she tore out the page. Charlotte hummed softly, hesitantly handing the coloring book page to Ethan, a shy smile on her face. “Is this for me?” The young man questioned, his eyes softening slightly as he looked down on the page. Charlotte giggled, nodding her head. 

“Uh-huh,” she confirmed gently, the same sheepish smile plastered on her face as she pointed down to the page. “Uh, I colored the hair purple, cause it’s my favorite color. And…I didn’t color the eyes yet, but that’s okay. Right?” Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter, nodding his head in confirmation. Charlotte smiled gently, returning her focus back down to the page. The young brunette carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulder, a small smile on his face as she leaned against him gently. “You can keep it,” she continued happily. “Put it on your fridge. We’re runnin’ out of room on mine.” Ethan glanced up from his lap, directing his gaze to their refrigerator. Sure enough, the fridge was absolutely covered with drawings and coloring book pages, only a few portions of it actually visible, showing the metal underneath. It was something the young man considered adorable, of course; how Mark kept absolutely everything his daughter made, showing it off with pride. The man was awfully proud of his daughter, Ethan knew that well enough. Of course, who wouldn’t? If the young girl was his daughter, he would have been awfully proud of her as well.

“Well, we’ll have to show your daddy when he gets home,” Ethan reminded the young girl, patting her head gently. Charlotte nodded. “He should be getting home, soon.”

“Can I draw on your face now?” Charlotte questioned curiously, a bright smile on her face as she glanced up to Ethan again, her eyes lit up and crinkled. The young man let out a soft huff of laughter, a playful roll of his eyes following. He leaned back against the couch, pursing his lips as he thought playfully for a few seconds. Charlotte waited patiently. “ _Pleeeaaase?”_ She continued, her eyes softening as she shifted on the couch, glancing over to the markers that were laid out on the coffee table, obviously with intentions of using Ethan’s face as a coloring book.

“How about tomorrow?” Ethan suggested hopefully, chuckling softly and tucking a lock of Charlotte’s hair behind her ear. “After all, your daddy is gonna be home soon, and then I’ll have to get going. If we try to put it on _now_ , we won’t have that much time. Probably only five minutes, and then I’ll have to walk home with it half-finished. That wouldn’t be ideal, would it?”

“I dunno what that means,” Charlotte squeaked.

Ethan smiled. “It means that it wouldn’t be the best,” he explained thoughtfully. “Besides, it takes a _loooong_ time to wash it off. A _very_ long time. I don’t wanna spend the rest of the day scrubbing it off.” He hummed softly, reaching over for a fuscia pink marker. The young man looked down at it for a few seconds before he handed it to Charlotte. “You can draw a mustache on my face though, if you’d like. Just something small, so it’ll only take a few seconds to wash off.” The young girl looked down at the marker, a wide grin on her face as she shifted on the couch, uncapping the marker. Ethan sucked in a small breath, humming softly before he heard the sound of the apartment door opening. “Saved by the bell,” he said softly, glancing away from Charlotte and fixing his attention on the door. He gave a gentle smile as he noticed Mark in the doorway. “Glad you’re home,” he mentioned thoughtfully. “I was about to let your daughter draw a _mustache_ on my face.”

Mark chuckled softly, resting his briefcase to the side as he took his shoes off. “Glad to know that my daughter has the authority when it comes to babysitting,” he scoffed teasingly. Ethan grinned, shrugging his shoulders and glancing at Charlotte, who giggled softly as she held her pink marker. She capped it carefully, resting it on the coffee table where she found it before she slid off of the couch. Ethan gave a watery smile, watching as she toddled over to her father. “There’s my favorite girl,” Mark cooed softly, kneeling down carefully to accept a hug from his daughter. She was simply adorable, standing on her toes to carefully wrap her arms around her father’s neck as she hugged him. Mark picked her up carefully, giving a small spin before resting her on his hip. “Did you have fun today?” He questioned lightly, gingerly tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. He gave a warm smile when the girl nodded happily, a small ‘uh-huh’ following. “That’s good,” Mark mentioned, pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead before resting her carefully on the ground. Charlotte giggled softly, glancing over at Ethan.

“Oh, uh, she did a lot of coloring today,” Ethan mentioned, giving a shy smile before he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “As much as she _wanted_ to draw on my face, we mutually agreed that paper would be a far better idea.” Mark let out a soft huff of laughter, crossing his arms loosely across his chest before glancing down at his daughter, a mere flicker of amusement in his eyes. “ _Although_ , I _was_ going to let her draw a mustache on my face. Not my proudest moment, I guess.” He gave an awkward smile. “How was…” Ethan’s voice trailed off as he watched the older man unbutton his blazer, slipping it off before resting it on the back of the living room chair. The man retucked his shirt, cocking an eyebrow slightly as the younger man paused. “…work,” he finally squeaked, clearing his throat as he found his composure. “How was work?”

Mark smiled softly. “Wonderful, actually,” he mentioned. The older man leaned against the lying room chair, thinking for a few seconds. “It’s weird, you know? I’ve never really… _liked_ work before. But, it’s great now. My boss is _finally_ noticing me….and _his_ boss is finally noticing me.” The man let out a soft huff of laughter, sweeping his hand through his hair. “I’ve almost finished my presentation for the meeting, so hopefully I get to present it while I’m there. I’m just so _used_ to being constantly overlooked when it comes to absolutely everything…being _second_ to someone else. Sometimes not _even_ second.” He gave a soft sigh, glancing at Ethan. “You probably don’t know what I’m getting at. Being… _overlooked_ , and all.”

“You have no idea,” Ethan replied sardonically, scoffing playfully.

Mark gave a half-smile, shrugging his shoulders in return. “Well, I guess everything is working out pretty okay for us now, huh?” The young man thought about it for a few seconds before reluctantly nodding his head. Yeah, he supposed that everything _was_ going fine. Sure…there were a lot of things that he wanted to change about his life, and the way he looked, and the way he acted…but he supposed maybe that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Ethan swallowed thickly, scratching the back of his neck before he sat back down on the couch, leaning back against it. “I mean, after all, I haven’t fired you… _yet_.” The man gave a half-smirk.

“You wish,” Ethan joked. He shifted on the couch slightly as he watched Charlotte walking over, crawling up carefully to sit beside him. The young man wrapped an arm around her shoulder, scooting closer to her and giving a smile. Charlotte giggled softly, leaning against him. “Aww,” the young man cooed softly, kissing the top of her head gently. He glanced to Mark, noticing how he wore a kind, appreciative smile. Ethan smiled shyly in return before he returned his eyes to the young girl, noticing how she looked back up at him and smiled. 

“You’re awfully good with her,” Mark mentioned, giving a half-smile. Ethan looked to him again, giving a simple shrug of his shoulders, almost as if he didn’t want to admit to it. It was a nice compliment, though…he appreciated it. “No, I’m serious,” the man continued, letting out a soft huff of laughter as he sat at the edge of his chair, shifting slightly. “It’s nice, you know, really. I don’t really know a lot of babysitters who actually like their job this much…enough to actually like the kid they’re taking care of, instead of finding them annoying.” Mark gave a small pause. “You…you’re better than Kaitlyn,” he admitted. The young man looked up at him, not even knowing what to say. His voice was… _genuine_. Mark was serious when he said it, and Ethan wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel proud or feel guilty. Sure, he knew well enough it was a compliment…but part of him just felt bad for Mark…and for Charlotte. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Mark continued softly, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, or anything.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ethan breathed out, giving a half-smile. “It’s….it’s a compliment.” He looked down at Charlotte gently, who looked slightly confused. After all, Ethan was almost positive that the young girl didn’t know her mother’s first name, therefore she had no idea who the two of them were even talking about. “I don’t know if it’s a _true_ compliment, considering I surely couldn’t replace…” his voice trailed off as he cleared his throat, shifting slightly on the couch. “I should really get going,” Ethan continued, giving an awkward smile as he glanced over to his phone, picking it up before shoving it in his back pocket. “It was nice talking to you, though. As always.” He glanced down at Charlotte, giving a gently smile. “Gotta get going now,” he mentioned softly.

“Actually,” Mark continued quickly, clearing his throat as he shifted on his chair. Ethan looked over to him, cocking his eyebrow slightly as the older man spoke up. He supposed if he could stay a few more minutes, if Mark just wanted to talk. Of course, calling on the phone was always something they did. “I was, well…I was actually wondering if you wanted to stay…for dinner.” The older man gave a half-smile, a hopeful look in his eye as he looked to Ethan. The young man sucked in a soft breath, a wave of anxiousness washing over him from the comment. Dinner…wasn’t really something he was interested in. Having to eat in front of someone wasn’t really something Ethan was comfortable with, even if he and Mark were close friends. The young man opened his close, almost as if he wanted to choke out an answer, but no words came out. God, he couldn’t just say _no_. It would be rude, especially considering how gracious Mark was being when he offered it…but the last thing the young man wanted to do was say _yes_. So, he simply sat there for a few seconds, allowing an almost awkward silence to linger overhead as the two of there sat there, staring back at each other. “I would _really_ appreciate it if you stayed,” Mark continued softly. “After all, it’s the least I could do with you helping me out and everything. You’ve been _really_ helpful.”

“I…” the young man breathed out softly, biting his lip before he forced a smile. “It sounds wonderful, really, but…” Ethan reluctantly sighed. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Believe me, you wouldn’t,” Mark promised. “You’ve been helping out so much recently…besides, it would be nice, you know? I made dinner this morning and all I have to do was heat it up. You really won’t have to stay even more than half an hour, unless it takes you a while.” He gave a soft huff of laughter. “Please?” He gave a soft smile, a flicker of hope in his eyes that made Ethan’s heart shudder. The young man smiled weakly, not even sure how he was supposed to say no to him. It seemed to be near impossible…it was like trying to say no to Charlotte after she asked for him to read her another story. He supposed maybe being adorable was hereditary. Well, not… _adorable_. Surely there was another word for it than that. 

“Well, I’m really not that hungry,” Ethan mentioned softly, supposing it was the only thing he could say to get him out of it. However, the man just stared back at him with a look of… _doubt_. That was the only way the young brunette could describe it. Mark truly looked as if he didn’t believe him, which was utterly confusing. “I…I guess I could stay for dinner, though,” he continued softly, supposing that giving in would be much better on him than attempting to deny it. “Again, though, I’m not really hungry or anything. I don’t know if I’ll eat, but…I can stay.” The words came out in a squeak as Mark raised an eyebrow in return, another flicker of disbelief in his eyes. Charlotte slipped off of the couch, toddling happily over to the kitchen so she could get into her seat at the table. Mark gave a reluctant smile, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he looked to Ethan, which the young man didn’t understand. He almost looked… _sorry_ for him. Like he pitied him or something. The young brunette watched as Mark stood up, his gaze lingering on him or a few more seconds, the same gaze in his eye before he turned away, walking over to join his daughter and prepare dinner. Ethan sat there for a few seconds, glancing around awkwardly. He really didn’t have any idea why Mark had even bothered allowing him to stay…it was a nice friendly thing, though. Considerate, he supposed, even though it wasn’t something he was really looking forward to.

Ethan stood up after a few seconds, walking over to the kitchen. He stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, watching as Mark crouched down after opening the fridge; he didn’t really know if he should be helping with anything. The young man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing over to Charlotte, who sat happily at the table. “Uh, do you need help with anything?” Ethan questioned hesitantly, taking a few steps forward to lean carefully against one of the chairs at the kitchen table, his gaze lingering on Mark as he pulled the container out of the fridge. The older man glanced over his right shoulder, giving a half-smile. “I just feel kinda… _useless_ standing here,” he continued, an awkward huff of laughter escaping his lips, followed by a simple shrug. 

“As much as I appreciate the offer,” Mark returned, resting the container on the counter before loosely crossing his arms against his chest, “you already do enough around here as it is. I mean, come on. You watch my daughter for over twelve hours a day, every day…you gave me the opportunity to keep her out of daycare so she can spend more time at home. You’ve given me someone to talk to throughout the day over text…and you’ve been a really great friend overall.” Ethan smiled shyly, biting his lower lip before he looked down at his feet. The young man gave a simple shrug, not knowing what else he was supposed to say. “So…I think the _least_ you can do is sit down for a few seconds and just be patient. Could you do that for me?” Ethan gave a reluctant smile, eventually nodding his head. He supposed Mark was right, although taking a compliment was always something he considered challenging. After a few seconds, he shifted over to sit across the way from Charlotte, smiling softly as she traced her finger over the table. 

“Whatcha doin, Char?” Ethan chuckled softly, watching as the young girl glanced up from the table.

“Drawin’ a smile,” Charlotte replied gently, humming underneath her breath. The young man smiled, saying nothing more as his gaze lingered on her for a few more seconds.

“The least you could do is let me set the table,” Ethan insisted, a half-smile on his face as he glanced over his shoulder, watching as the older man closed the microwave, cocking an eyebrow slightly as he looked back at him. “I’m serious,” the young man giggled, turning around halfway in his seat. Mark shook his head simply, turning around again before he reached for the drawer. Ethan gave a playful sigh, humming underneath his breath as he watched Mark set the table. The young man looked at him weakly. “Thank you for this, really,” he whispered softly. “But…you really don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I want to,” Mark reminded him in return, shrugging his shoulders. Ethan gave a grateful smile. Despite the fact that he didn’t really _want_ to be there, he supposed it would be nice. He didn’t _have_ to eat everything, after all. “So, if you could stop complaining for a few seconds,” he joked, “that would be wonderful.” Ethan sucked in a soft breath, nodding his head before looking down at his hands. He felt slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything. Ethan listened as the microwave beeped softly.

“What’s for dinner, Daddy?” Charlotte squeaked softly, cocking her head slightly as she shifted in her chair.

“Pulled pork,” Mark replied.

Ethan hummed softly. “So, you can cook, huh?” 

“Something like that,” the man returned, a simple shrug of his shoulders following suit. “When Kaitlyn was in business trips…” his voice trailed off, a soft sigh following. “When Kaitlyn was seeing Carter in Colorado…” Mark corrected, Ethan’s heart sinking in his chest from how seemingly broken the man’s voice sounded. The way he just admitted it with such defeat was heartbreaking, Ethan knew that well enough. “…I did a lot of the cooking. It’s surprisingly easy, you know? I actually wanted to work at a restaurant when I was younger. I used to help my mother around the kitchen and everything when I was younger, so I guess I know a thing or two. I’m no _head chef_ or anything…but it’s not like I’m a newbie, or anything.” He let out a soft huff of laughter. Ethan nodded in understanding. “What did you want to be when you grew up? I mean, besides a babysitter, since that was obviously the first option on your list when you were a little boy.” Ethan let out a joking scoff, crossing his arms loosely across his chest. He seemingly forgot about the fact that he would most likely have to find a way out of eating in a few minutes. For a few seconds, he could just talk with his friend.

“I wanted to be a photographer, actually,” Ethan replied. “I didn’t really…” his voice trailed off as he awkwardly looked down at his hands. “College wasn’t really meant for me, you know? Well, I guess _I_ wasn’t meant for college…I got kicked out.” He gave an awkward smile, scratching the back of his head. “Whoops…”

Mark chuckled. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you’re awfully smart.” Ethan’s heart fluttered slightly. He cocked his eyebrow, reaching over for his glass of water and quickly taking a sip. God, that felt weird. A good kind of weird, though. Just a simple rush of adrenaline rushing over him, running through his veins. His cheeks went flush for a few seconds, so he quickly glanced down, humming underneath his breath until he couldn’t feel his face heating up any longer. Ethan flinched slightly as he heard the light tapping of the plate being rested carefully on the table. He glanced up from his hands, listening as Mark’s soft laughter followed. “Scared of a plate?” He teased, resting a smaller plastic plate in front of his daughter before reaching for his own from the counter. Ethan gave a half-smile, shaking his head in return. “Sure looked like it,” he mentioned playfully, although he said nothing more before he finally sat down at the table. Ethan glanced down at his place. It looked good, he supposed, although he really wasn’t in the mood for eating. The young man reached hesitantly for his cup of water, clearing his throat before he took a sip.

Ethan noticed how the older man’s attention lingered on him for a few seconds before he reached for his fork, saying nothing as he started eating. The young man diverted his gaze in the other direction, saying nothing as he didn’t touch anything on his plate. Mark cleared his throat, glancing at him. Ethan looked back at him. “Not hungry,” he whispered, giving a half-apologetic shrug. He simply reached for his glass of water, taking another sip. The older man looked back at him simply, a genuine sardonic look in his eye. Ethan swallowed thickly, biting his lip as he continued to say nothing. There wasn’t really much more to say, he supposed. After all, surely Mark would understand if he just said he wasn’t hungry. “Sorry,” Ethan continued. “It looks really good, I swear.” He gave a genuine smile, but Mark said nothing, taking another bite of food. The young man shifted with discomfort, glancing over to Charlotte. The young girl was pushing food around on her plate, glancing at her father hesitantly as if he didn’t notice.

“Charlotte, you have to eat,” Mark reminded the young girl softly, gesturing his hand over to her plate. “Everything on your plate, okay?” Ethan took a sip of water, noticing how Charlotte whined in return, obviously not pleased with the idea of having to eat dinner. “Charlotte, this isn’t a debate,” he continued, his voice a bit sterner. “You have to eat your food.”

“But Ethan doesn’t ea-” Charlotte murmured.

“ _Eat_ ,” Mark reminded her. The young girl pouted a bit, continuing to push food around on her plate. Ethan swallowed thickly, remaining silent so he wouldn’t get caught between anything. Once again, he took another sip of water, glancing away from the table. “Baby, you gotta eat, okay?” he said softly, a pleading sense littered in his voice. 

“Okay,” the young girl returned. She reluctantly took a bite, smiling a bit. Mark let out a sigh of relief, taking another bite of food.

“For someone who never packs a lunch,” Mark mentioned, glancing over to Ethan with a look of mock-confusion, “you sure don’t ever seem to be hungry.” Ethan swallowed thickly, coughing into his fist before sitting on his hand, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “Come on, surely you must be a _little_ hungry, right?” He continued. The older man spoke to him as if he was trying to get his own daughter to eat. Ethan didn’t say anything. After all, the young man knew well enough that Mark had no idea about his… _insecurities_ , but he didn’t understand why Mark was pushing it. So, Ethan simply shrugged his shoulders in return, almost as if he too was confused by the thought. Mark made a soft clicking sound with his tongue, sighing before glanced away from him. Ethan said nothing, biting his lip.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Charlotte smiled proudly. “All done,” she announced happily, her voice littered with pride as she straightened up in her seat. Ethan glanced up from his hands, giving a half-smile when he realized she was correct. The young girl had finished all her food. “Can I go now?” She giggled. Mark rolled his eyes playfully, giving a reluctant nod of her head. The young girl beamed happily, slipping off of her chair before she toddled over. The young brunette’s eyes lingered on her as she went, toddling off to her bedroom. It was a little bit later, Ethan supposed. The man wouldn’t have been surprised if she would be going to sleep in a minute or two. Although, of course, he also remembered that children would always persist when it came to pushing the limits of how long they could allow their parents to let them stay up. Ethan had done the same thing when he was younger, of course, always using the excuse of wanting a glass of water. He hummed softly, slightly dazed as he allowed his eyes to focus on nothing, in particular, thinking about nothing in particular to match.

“I’m not stupid, Ethan,” Mark mentioned softly, causing the young man to break out of whatever trance he was in. He straightened up in his seat, glancing over his right shoulder to Mark. The young man cocked his eyebrow slightly, slightly confused. He opened his mouth to say something, but the older man cut him off. “Ethan…just…I would rather you just come forward with it,” he continued, that same sympathetic look lingering in his eye as he stared at Ethan. The young man swallowed thickly, not knowing what he was supposed to say. Surely he didn’t. After all, it wasn’t even that obvious. At least, the young man didn’t think so. So, instead of saying anything, he gave a defensive shrug of his shoulders, almost as if he didn’t know what he was talking about. “I know you’re not eating not because you’re not hungry…but because you have an eating disorder.” Ethan’s heart sunk in his chest, a quick wave of anxiety washing over him. Fuck, no. No, no, no. Not like this, not now. _No one_ had ever known before. He wasn’t going to add a person to a non-existent list. He opened and closed his mouth, his breath picking up a bit. God, he was done for. He was fired.

“Mark, I-”

“No, this is where _I_ talk,” Mark returned gently, a reassuring gaze in his eyes. Ethan diverted his attention quickly, sucking in a small breath. “Hey, look at me.” The young man glanced back at him weakly, that same fearful look in his eyes. “Charlotte…she didn’t want to eat her dinner earlier. I’m sure you noticed that.” Ethan bit his lip, giving a hesitant nod of his head, not understanding where the older man was going. “Well, she…she tends to mimic things she sees…replicating it because she thinks it’s the right thing to do. And, recently, you’ve been watching her a lot. And, since you haven’t really been… _eating_ around her…” his voice trailed off, almost as if he didn’t want to continue. Ethan sat there in silence, not understanding for a few seconds before it hit him like a brick wall, and he felt as if he wanted to choke, even though he wasn’t even eating anything. Charlotte wasn’t eating…because of _him_. She had noticed how Ethan wasn’t eating, and was using it as an excuse for herself. The young man leaned forward slightly., resting his elbows on the table with his head in his hands. “Ethan, I know you didn’t do it on purpose…” he whispered.

“Fuck, how could I have been so _stupid_?” Ethan choked out, his voice breaking as he shook his head in disbelief. “This…this is all my fault.” He let out a shaky breath, not even knowing what else to say. His heart sunk in his chest when he realized why the young girl didn’t want to eat a few days ago. It wasn’t because it was just kids being kids…it was because she was following what _he_ did. Charlotte had noticed; God, Ethan should have realized everything sooner. He had known well enough that children picked up on everything they saw, and that they would attempt to mimic it…he just didn’t think that Charlotte would do the same. Ethan wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to divert his attention somewhere else. “God, I’m _so sorry_ ,” he breathed out, knowing well enough it wouldn’t make a difference what he said. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean for _any_ of this to happen. I’m so so _so_ sorry.” He held his head in his hands again, feeling utterly defeated.

“It’s…it’s okay,” Mark admitted, biting his lip as he reached over to Ethan’s hand, taking it away from his face and resting it carefully on the table. The young man glanced at him, noticing how Mark rested his hand on top of his, a sympathetic gaze in his eyes. “You…you didn’t know what you were doing, it’s alright. If you knew, you…you wouldn’t have done that if you knew, I know that.” Ethan nodded quickly, a reassuring, yet hopeful, look in his eyes. “I’m not mad at you, Ethan…far from it.” The young man gave him a look of confusion…that was an answer he hadn’t quite expected. “I…I wanna help you.” His eyes were soft as he gave him a gentle look. “ _Please_ let me help you.”

Ethan’s heart lifted slightly in his chest from the comment. It was all he ever wanted, if he had to be honest. Someone being so completely willing to help him, without the young man even asking. He said nothing though, a wave of fear washing over him at the same time. He _wanted_ help…God, he wanted it desperately. Ethan didn’t know if he would be willing to accept it though. “I…I don’t need help,” he whispered softly, glancing away from the other. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Mark insisted, a serious gaze in his eye. “If you were fine…you would eat dinner instead of just looking at it and drinking water instead.” The young man sucked in a soft breath. “Ethan, look at me,” he continued, squeezing his hand gently. The young man glanced over his shoulder at him, a sad gaze in his eye. “You’re _not_ fine, so don’t even try to look at me and tell me that you’re fine. You’re _not_. I wanna help you, Ethan…but I can’t help you if you aren’t willing to accept help. So _please_ …I want to feel comfortable leaving you around my daughter, but I can’t if you aren’t willing to at least _try_ and eat a something-”

“Mark, it’s not that simple,” Ethan whispered. “Believe me, if I could…I _would_. God, that’s all I want. I wanna be _normal_ , Mark…” his voice trailed off, his eyes watering. “But I _can’t_.” His voice broke as he glanced away. God, he just felt uncomfortable being like this around the older man. His heart fluttered slightly in his chest as he felt Mark squeeze his hand again. However, Ethan refused to meet his gaze. “I _want_ help,” the young brunette admitted finally, his voice coming out in a reluctant sigh. “I want…I want _your_ help.”

“Then just let me help you,” Mark said softly. “I…I don’t know _how_ to help you, Eth, I’m not a professional. If I was…I guess I would have picked up on everything sooner.” He let out a gentle sigh, obviously slightly frustrated. The young man felt a little guilty. This wasn’t something that he just wanted to just add onto the older man’s plate. It was _his_ problem…not Mark’s. “I…I just want you to eat something. Please. Just a few bites. I know it’s…I know it’s probably something you’re not interested in, but…” his voice trailed off before he glanced down at Ethan’s plate. “ _Please_. I don’t like knowing you…knowing you _skip_ meals. And for what, Eth? You don’t look overweight, not even in the slightest. And, if you were, why would it even matter? Don’t beat yourself up over something like that, especially if you’re _farthest_ from it.” The man wore a look of exasperation.

“It’s not…it’s not that,” Ethan whispered softly.

“Then what is it?”

“I…I get uncomfortable _eating_ ,” the young man admitted. “Just the _thought_ of knowing where it all goes, even if it doesn’t affect me…it scares me a little. I know I don’t gain weight, and I _know_ I’m not overweight…but just the thought of knowing that food _could_ affect me like that…” he gave a soft sigh. “And when people are _watching_ me eat…I just feel _disgusting_.”  
“I can turn my head,” Mark whispered. The young man glanced at him, a grateful look flickering in his eye as he gazed at the older man. “Or I can leave the room, if you’d like…anything that’s going to get you to eat something.” Ethan gave an appreciative smile, not knowing what he could possibly say in return. The gesture was beyond kind. “Ethan…” Mark breathed out, biting his lip before he gave a sigh. “I want you to stay over for dinner from now on. Every night, no exceptions.” The young man’s eyes widened slightly, a sickening feeling in his stomach. The older man had to worry enough about feeding his daughter…adding someone else to the table surely wouldn’t help him financially. And all because of _him_? It was beyond selfless, yes…but Ethan couldn’t accept the proposal. It would be unfair to Mark. “We’re gonna fix this together, okay? We can chip away at this every night, and pretty soon you’re gonna be okay again. But you have to work with me here.”

“No,” Ethan returned plainly, a defeated look in his eye as he gave a weak shake of his head. “No, I’m not staying for dinners.”

“Ethan-”

“You can’t make me.”

“Ethan,” Mark retorted sternly, a serious flicker in his eye that made Ethan shut his mouth, even if it was just for a few seconds. It was like when his mother had said his full name when he was younger…he had known when to be quiet and listen, instead of rambling on. “I _know_ I can’t make you…but don’t you at least want to _try_? Please…you’re so good with her, Eth. You’re so good with Charlotte, but I can’t have you around her if you’re going to keep this up.” The man’s eyes were sorrowful. Ethan didn’t want to lose a friend. “So just…work with me here. Eat a granola bar during the day, just something that shows her that you’re not…”

“That I’m not messed up…” Ethan whispered.

“That you’re not purposely skipping meals,” the man corrected. It was obvious he didn’t want Ethan to make self-deprecating comments. “And…maybe you can try eating a bit at dinner. Okay?” Ethan didn’t say anything. “Please…?”

“Okay,” the young man replied hesitantly. “I’ll try.”

Mark let out a soft breath of relief. “Thank you,” he whispered in return, giving Ethan’s hand another squeeze before he stood up from his chair. “I’m gonna go work on my presentation…okay? You can leave whenever you want, but…please try eating something today. I hate seeing you like this.” The young brunette didn’t say anything for a few seconds before he reluctantly nodded his head, watching as the man smiled in return, turning on his heels before walking to his bedroom. Ethan looked down at his plate weakly, pushing the vegetables around for a few seconds before reluctantly stabbing one with his fork. Help was on his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of find it funny how in Chapter Nineteen of Fifty Feet in the Air, they already had mutual feelings for each other, had started 'dating', and had sort of reached some main conflict...but for Baby of Mine, neither of them have really 'caught feelings'. (I did do my best to include a bit of feels in here, though, just a lil bit. I don't like makings jumps from not liking someone to being totally infatuated with them, so you always gotta sneak some of that in there)
> 
> I hope you guys don't mind me taking Baby of Mine slow. There's just so much *more* to the story here, and a much thicker plot. On that note, I do find it interesting how you guys say my writing here has evolved from Fifty Feet in the Air, and I find it fascinating because I never really notice a difference while I'm writing. I sort of just pick things up as I go, not knowing what writing style I've slightly altered as I work. Baby of Mine is obviously a longer fic, however, in both chapter number and length. The average word count per chapter is only heightened by about 1.5k words, but I've worked on trying to include as much detail as I can. I hope you don't mind, lol.
> 
> As for the Hunger Games fic, that's coming along really well for the researching process. It's definitely a lot more research than I had to do for Baby of Mine, though, lol. The trickiest part really is how everything works, which is surprisingly more complicated than the movies and books show. I will say, however, that I plan on the time period taking place during the 23rd games, or something like that. The fic itself, title to be revealed shortly, will probably be more centered around the games than the romance, but it will definitely be included. It will just be a little harder to portray, considering I don't intend on Mark being a tribute alongside Ethan, which will all be revealed soon.
> 
> But, thank you guys so much for all the support on Baby of Mine! Reading your comments as I right as encouraged me in so many ways, and I appreciate how you guys like where it's going so far. If this chapter wasn't angsty enough for you, I have a few more in mind for the future. 
> 
> Kudos + Comments always appreciated
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply!


	20. Life Before the Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

_“Katy, you can’t do this to me,” Mark choked out, running a hand quickly through his hair, a familiar feeling of frustration washing over him as he felt himself falling back onto the couch. The couch that the two of them had been sitting on just the day before, in silence after another one of there arguments. Where the two of them had whispered back and forth between themselves about what was best for their future, all while Charlotte slept contently in her bedroom. Kaitlyn had insisted she needed to leave, but Mark had refused to accept it. He had pleaded with her desperately, insisting that everything wrong with their relationship could simply be fixed with the snap of their fingers. As if_ communication _alone would be enough to repair anything…to stop the fact that Kaitlyn had cheated on him, and lied to him, and had fallen in love with someone else behind his back, avidly romanticizing another relationship. Avidly lying about a job she didn’t even have, sneaking off to Colorado for ‘business opportunities’ just so she could continue some quick affair that she thought could be hidden forever…that she thought Mark would never find out about, for she_ truly _believed she had swept everything underneath the rug._

_But she hadn’t. Mark had found her phone, and he had seen everything…he had scrolled through_ everything _, too afraid to look away. It was like a crime scene that his gaze had been relentlessly lingered on. The farther he scrolled back, the more he realized that it truly had started as just an affair…just some way of Kaitlyn having a few rounds of sex while she was away, because she knew she had found someone who wouldn’t deny her. Mark, at the time…well, sex had been the last thing on his mind. God, if he had known that it would have saved their relationship…he didn’t even want to think about it. The messages kept all of the secrets of Kaitlyn and Carter’s relationship. How it started off as just sex…but then the two_ truly _found love as time continued. How Kaitlyn would go to Colorado, not for sex, but just because she enjoyed the man’s company more than she did Mark’s…because she enjoyed getting away from the family that she already had. It was like her way of escaping everything…getting out of it all without an explanation, even if it was just for the weekend. That was what made everything worse…she_ loved _him._

_Kaitlyn truly loved Carter, and she had informed Mark before, choking it out as if it was some sort of apology. As if it was some_ excuse _for everything she was doing…because she loved him. And, when she had first admitted it, part of Mark could hardly believe it. Part of him couldn’t believe that his own girlfriend…the_ mother _of his daughter, loved someone else. How could she, after all? She had started a life with Mark, a life for just the two of them. Yes, they had drifted apart, but Mark would have avidly bent over backward to save their relationship, as long as it meant she would have never had gone to Colorado. He would have done everything. But, the more he started to believe Kaitlyn…the more he realized that she didn’t just love Carter…she loved the other man more than she had ever loved him. More than she could have_ dreamed _of loving him. Kaitlyn loved Carter more than Mark…more than Charlotte…more than the two of them combined. And that was what made the young man’s heart sting…how quickly he could fall out of love with someone, despite how he had treated her throughout the years._

_And, despite Kaitlyn even_ insisting _that living with Mark was the last thing she wanted…he loved her. He really did love her. Despite how she had abruptly left the house in a rush, a suitcase dragging behind her and a fire in her heart as Mark was weak to do anything, he loved her. The young man just wanted everything to go back to the way it used to be…when they were young, and in love…like the few months following when Charlotte was born. When they had managed to make a family of their own, and they were content with life. Where Mark had confessed his love to her practically every day, and where Kaitlyn didn’t mind staying at the house to watch Charlotte for the day…where she didn’t need the company of another man to make her happy. Where just the presence of her boyfriend was enough for her, because starting a family had been the only thing on her mind at the time. She had been so persistent with the idea that starting a family was all she wanted. Although Mark had originally disagreed…he had eventually come around because the second he laid eyes on Charlotte, the only thing he wanted to do was love her and protect her._

_And that was what he had done for the past year…that was his job. Mark’s job was to go to work so he could get paid and provide for his family; so he could provide for Kaitlyn and Charlotte…his girlfriend and his daughter. So maybe one day he could make it…his_ wife _and his daughter. That was the intention of his future…Mark had wanted to marry her. He_ wanted _to marry her…God, that was why he was on the phone with her. He wanted her to come home. He would give her as many chances as she needed, even if she kept fucking it up…as long as she came home. God, Charlotte needed her._ Mark _needed her. Part of him didn’t even know why he wanted her around, especially after all she had done to him. Everything Kaitlyn had kept from Mark…shielded from Mark, concealed from him…it was more than enough of a reason for_ him _to be the one dumping_ her _…yet it seemed to be the other way around. Of course, it was the last thing Mark wanted. He wanted to fix everything between them, no matter how long it took. He wanted his daughter to grow up with a mother…it was so unbelievably unfair to Charlotte, and Mark knew it well enough. This wasn’t just some romance feud between him and his girlfriend, if he was even able to call her that before…they were Charlotte’s parents. Kaitlyn might not be able to be Mark’s girlfriend forever, but she would_ always _be Charlotte’s mother…she couldn't just abandon them like that, acting as if she could just leave everything she knew behind._

_Mark should have stopped her while she was packing, and he knew that well enough. He should have reached for her and_ pleaded _. He should have begged for her to stay, and maybe she would have. God, it was the only thing he had on his mind now…all the ways he could have gotten her to stay, even if it was just a few more days. All of this just felt simply unusual…it was never something he could have imagined happening when he first started dating Kaitlyn. Sure, he hadn’t known for sure that they would have lasted…but he could have_ sworn _they were destined to be together as soon as Charlotte came into the picture. Maybe not a perfect dollhouse family, sure…but_ something _. The young man just wanted to have the once familiar feeling of sitting beside his girlfriend on the couch, his arm wrapped around her shoulder lovingly as they both gazed down at Charlotte, who lay swaddled in her arms, fast asleep. The two of them would whisper back and forth to each other, Kaitlyn’s temple resting on his shoulder as they just sat there, filled with a new sense of content. They had just been able to close their eyes together…at peace with each other and with everything around them. The two of them had been so incredibly in love, to the point where it hurt…where did it all go?_ Why _did it all fade?_

_Mark couldn’t imagine a life without Kaitlyn…God, she was the reason he had decided to move to New York City in the first place…so he could just be in love with her. So they could start a life together, and a family together…and_ be _together. And, for a while, everything was perfect…everything was fine. They had moved in together, and they had been happy despite everything. Despite an unplanned pregnancy, and the fact that Mark would find himself ending over backward for a promotion he seemingly would never receive, piled on top with the fact that they were practically working paycheck to paycheck. But the fact that they loved each other was more than enough to keep everything steady. He supposed that was what had broken everything up…when Kaitlyn fell out of love with him._

_“Katy…please, you can’t do this,” Mark begged, practically pleading with her as he rested his elbows on his knees, the phone close to his ear in his right hand, his left hand tightly clutching his hair. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to say…he didn’t_ know _if there was anything he_ could _say to get her to stay. Mark would say anything he had to, of course…but that was the thing. He didn't know if there was anything that could change his girlfriend’s mind. Mark glanced around his apartment cautiously, his knee bouncing anxiously as he waited for the woman to reply. It was a miracle that he had managed to get her on the phone, considering how many times he had called her and she had declined almost immediately upon hearing it ring. Miraculously, however, she picked up the phone to insist that he stopped calling her, mentioning how she would be getting on her flight in less than an hour for Colorado. Mark, however, had been quit to cut her off, insisting that she just_ speak _to him, as if that was all he needed to change her mind. Maybe it was. Maybe she would change her mind. Mark sucked in a soft breath, listening as Kaitlyn sighed on the other end…a mix of sympathy and_ pity _. It was an awful feeling, knowing he was pitied by someone._

_“Markie…you know how I feel about this,” Kaitlyn whispered softly, another sigh following. Mark’s eyes watered as he sat up slightly, leaning back against the couch as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, feeling absolutely pathetic. “It’s not…it really isn’t that simple…” she spoke as if all of this was so extremely complicated…as if it wasn’t just easy to cancel her flight and_ stop _talking to Carter. “I couldn’t…I can’t…” Kaitlyn’s voice trailed off once again as she struggled to find what she was trying to say. She let out a breath of exasperation, obviously frustrated with the young man. Mark didn’t care, though. God, he didn’t care_ how _frustrated she was…all he wanted her to do was listen. He wanted to talk to her, even if it was just for the half an hour he knew he had left…maybe if it was just for a few minutes. Part of him didn’t want to let go. He wanted to hold onto what they had, keeping it close in his memory and never letting it go. “I shouldn’t even be on the phone with you right now…” she continued, almost as if it_ pained _her to say it. Mark didn’t need her fake sympathy, but he just found his body melting from the soft tone of her voice, something he could hardly resist. “I shouldn’t have picked up the phone, this…this was a mistake.” Her voice was seemingly frantic._

_“No, no, no,” Mark said quickly, sniffling a bit before clearing his throat. “No, please, this isn’t a mistake, I promise you. This is…we’re supposed to be talking right now, okay? Please, just, don’t hang up. Please don’t hang up.” His voice was littered with desperation. Kaitlyn said nothing on the other end, but she thankfully didn’t hang up. She was giving him his time to speak, and he wouldn’t waste a single second with any of his stupid pauses for clarification. “I love you, Katy,” Mark choked out finally, his voice littered with a feeling so similar to_ shame _…as if he felt humiliated admitting something that had once seemed so custom to her. It was something he had repeated so many times to her before. He had whispered it when they sat together, flirted it playfully across the dinner table…said it so tenderly as he held her while they slept, pressing gentle kisses against her shoulder. But now…but now it_ pained _him to say it. It felt as if he was shamefully admitting a crush of his…like he was some angsty teenager talking about his feelings for the first time. “I love you…_ so _fucking much. More than I would care to admit…but I do. I always have, Katy, I’ve always loved you. Even…even after all of this…” his voice trailed off, his eyes watering once more, but this time he didn’t do anything to stop them. The man felt_ so _utterly broken, his heart aching._

_“Mark, please don’t do this to me again,” Kaitlyn sighed, as if she was exhausted with his familiar confessions. “Don’t make me regret anything I’m doing.” Mark looked up at the ceiling, a weak attempt to stop the tears from pouring down the side of his face, as if that would change anything. “You_ know _that what I’m doing it for the best…for both of us. You…you don’t love me, Mark. You_ want _to love me, and you_ want _to bring what we had back, and I understand,. Believe me, Mark, I_ understand _…but you can’t keep doing this to me. You can’t keep asking me to come back, and you can’t keep calling me._ Please _stop calling me. Carter knows about you, but…God, that would be impossible to explain to him.” Mark let out a quivered breath as he listened to his girlfriend speak. It was something he considered so selfish, but part of him just couldn’t hate her. It was a manipulative tactic, he knew that well enough…but Mar couldn’t help it. He_ loved _her…not because he wanted to hold onto their relationship for pathetic reasons, but because he truly believed they could make what they had work. “You can’t…_ pretend _to love me anymore, Markie. You and I both knew this was over as soon as I started going on business trips to Colorado…we_ knew _everything would be going downhill from there.”_

_“No…no, we didn’t,” Mark insisted, his voice broken as he spoke. “We didn’t know that…you might have, but I didn’t. We both messed up, Katy, but…it’s okay, we can still fix this. We can still fix us._ Please _…please don’t leave me. Don’t give up on this, we can start over.” He rambled on forcefully, stammering and choking on his words as he wiped his eyes. He didn’t want to let go of this…to let go of their relationship. God, it was all happening too fast, and Mark was just helpless to stop it. Part of him_ knew _he couldn’t…but goddamnit, he was going to try. “We can start…we can start over. Please. Everything can go back to the way it used to be. We can be in love, and…and Charlotte can have you around again…just like old times. Just like the way it used to be, before all of this happened._ Please _, Katy. Please, please, please.” His voice was quick, his words almost stumbling over each other as he spoke, almost coming out as some foreign language. Kaitlyn sighed again. Mark knew he was being pathetic…he_ knew _it…but he just couldn’t stop. He wanted her back, he_ needed _her back. “I…I need you, Katy.”_

_“Mark,” Kaitlyn breathed out, her voice trailing off as she struggled to think of what she was supposed to say to him. “You really dropped a bomb on me right now, I…I don’t know what to say.”_

_“Say yes,” Mark pleaded, his voice littered with desperation as he shifted to the edge of his couch, his knee bouncing again with anticipation. “Come_ home _. Come home to me and Charlotte. We love you, Katy, please._ Charlotte _loves you. This isn’t just about me…this is about her. You have a daughter, Katy. You can’t just forget about her. This isn’t_ just _about_ our _relationship…Charlotte needs a mother. I don’t want to have to raise her on my own…I don’t want to have to drop her off at daycare every day. That’s not fair to her…God, none of this has to do with her. Nothing either of us did has anything to do with_ her _. So why does she have to be affected by all of this? You can’t honestly tell me that_ any _of this is her fault…” there was a silence between the two. Mark swallowed thickly. “Please, Katy.”_

_“She can survive without me,” Katy insisted, her voice hesitant._

_“Kaitlyn…” Mark breathed out. “You don’t mean that…”_

_“What do you want me to say, Mark?” The young woman returned, obviously frustrated as she spoke to him. “What am I supposed to say to that?” Mark knew that his girlfriend knew he was right…she just would never admit it, which was what pained him the most. She just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, her pride larger than the appreciation she had for her own daughter. “You really put me in a corner here, Mark. I…my…my_ flight _takes off soon, you know that.” No, Mark didn’t know that, because he knew well enough that her flight wouldn’t be taking off for another twenty minutes. Nevertheless, he remained silent, listening to what she has to say…listening to see if she even had an excuse for what she was doing to her own daughter. “I…I want to be happy too, Mark. My life matters too, doesn’t it?”_

_“Don’t turn this on yourself,” Mark choked out._

_“But it’s the truth, and you know it,” Kaitlyn retorted, sucking in a soft breath before she continued. “I wasn’t happy living with you and Charlotte…I wasn’t_ happy _having a daughter. I thought I would be, Mark, I really_ wanted _to be content living with you two, but I’m not ready for having a family. We were so young, Mark…we_ are _so young. We should have thought about our options instead of having a child at that age. We…even though it was an accident, we rushed into everything. I should have listened to you, and that’s my fault.” Mark glanced around the room, the mere thought of what Kaitlyn was suggesting making him sick to his stomach. “But we can’t change anything, Mark…so why can’t you just be happy for me? I’ve finally found a way to be happy with what I’m doing with my life.”_

_“So are you just going to forget about Charlotte?” Mark whispered, his shoulders drooping sadly at the thought. “You’re just going to…start a new life with him? With Carterl? Do everything that we did together with someone else, insisting that it’s any different? You’re just going to…get married someday? Have kids with someone else when you’re older, and love them more than you could_ ever _love me or Charlotte? Days will pass by, and you’ll just push yourself away from your past, acting like we were just some different_ life _, like we don’t even exist anymore.” He gave a sigh of frustration. “I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted, Katy, please. We…if we just start over, we can be happy again. You don’t have to think about starting a new life with someone else. We can wait, and we can be in love, and we can get married when the time is right. Don’t you want that? Isn’t that what you’ve been looking for for so long, thinking that I would never give it to you? I can, Katy. If that’s what it takes for you to_ stay _with me, to stay with Charlotte, I’ll do it. She needs you, Katy. You can’t just forget about her, or regret her, because at the end of the day she still loves you….at the end of the day, you’re still her mother. Nothing will ever change that. You can’t just push her away like you’re trying to push me away.”_

_“You’re just never going to accept the fact that_ I’ve _managed to move on, are you?” Kaitlyn whispered, almost as if she was disgusted. “Mark, you don’t love me. You just hate the thought of me loving someone else besides you.”_

_“No, no, it’s not that,” Mark insisted. “Katy…we were in love, can’t you see that? Nothing even had to change, it just happened to.” He took another breath. “Please…please come home. We can talk about this, face to face. You don’t have to stay, you can always catch another flight…but you didn’t even say goodbye to her, Katy. You left, and you didn’t even say_ goodbye _. She’s your daughter, Katy, doesn’t that mean anything to you? Does Charlotte not even mean anything to you anymore?” Kaitlyn said nothing in return._

_“I have to go,” Kaitlyn whispered. Mark’s eyes widened slightly, his heart skipping a beat in his chest. No, she couldn’t. Mark opened his mouth to say something, but she quickly continued. “Please stop calling me, Mark…it’s not going to do you any good. I loved you, Mark…but this is for the best. For both of us, I promise.” Mark’s eyes watered before he heard the breathing on the other line stop. He pulled the phone away from his ear, his heart sinking in his chest when he realized his ex-girlfriend had hung up on him. He swallowed thickly, fumbling over himself to quickly call her back, and continue the call. God, Mark didn’t even get to say goodbye. Mark pressed the button quickly, swallowing thickly a the phone rung once before quickly being denied. His bottom lip quivered for a few seconds before he reluctantly let out a choked sob, dropping his phone onto the couch beside him before propping his elbows on his knees, covering his eyes with his hands. He cried softly into his palms, his breath quivering as he weakly sniffled. Mark felt…_ incredibly _alone. He sat by himself on the couch, the apartment feeling seemingly empty now that Kaitlyn wasn’t there…now that Kaitlyn would_ never _be there again, and he knew that well enough in his heart. He looked up from his hands, feeling absolutely pathetic crying over someone who hadn’t loved him for a while._

_Mark knew he wasn’t supposed to love her. He knew that there were so many other women and men in the world who would be able to love him more…but he just wanted to be able for Charlotte to have her mother. This wasn’t just about him…it wasn’t fair to his daughter. To_ their _daughter. He knew that trying to call her and talk to her wouldn’t make a difference, though. What was done was done, and he knew that he would just have to learn to live with everything, despite how upset and quite frankly frustrated it made him at just the mere thought. For the night, though, he would allow himself to wallow. Mark would allow himself to hold himself in his arms and just sob softly on his couch. He sniffled a bit, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. However, Mark found himself perking up slightly from the sound of his daughter sobbing. He swallowed thickly. Another nightmare, he supposed…Kaitlyn was always the one who had went to Charlotte when that happened. He…he had never done that before. nevertheless, Kaitlyn wasn’t there. Mark would have to do it on his own. He climbed off of the couch, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he made his way to Charlotte’s room._

_Mark opened the door carefully, allowing light from the hallway to pour carefully into the room, streaking over her toddler bed. Sure enough, his daughter was sitting up in bed, looking frightened and crying. The young man gave a sympathetic sigh, stepping into the room carefully. “Hey, honey, it’s okay,” he whispered softly. Charlotte looked up from her hands, her eyes strained and swollen, filled with tears. She sniffled a bit before she continued crying. Mark wore a comforting smile as he walked over to the toddler bed, noticing how his daughter made grabby hands up to him. He picked her up carefully, patting her back gently as she clutched onto his shirt tightly, crying onto his shoulder. “Shhh, it’s okay,” Mark whispered softly. “Daddy’s here, you’re okay. I’ve got you now, it was just a nightmare. It’s not real.” He made a soft ‘shhh’ sound, gently comforting his daughter and patting her back, feeling her relax into his arms. He knew well enough he wasn’t Kaitlyn…but he would do as best as he could._

_“Better?” Mark whispered, his daughter wiping her eyes on his shirt._

_“Uh-uh-huh,” Charlotte stammered, nodding weakly. She didn’t let go though, and neither did Mark. He held her carefully in his arms. It was just him now…just the two of them. The young man sucked in a soft breath, swaying carefully. “Monster…” she whispered softly._

_“You had a nightmare about a monster, huh?” Mark asked, his voice gentle. She nodded carefully. He gave a half-smile. “Well…I’m gonna be here to protect you, okay? I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, not ever.” Charlotte nodded tiredly again. He pressed a gentle kiss against her cheek before he crouched down carefully, gingerly laying her down in her bed. She blinked up at him with a tired expression, thankfully not questioning where her mother was. “Goodnight, honey,” Mark whispered, pulling the covers up to her shoulders, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Charlotte let out a squeaked hum in return before closing her eyes, pressing her cheek against the pillow. The young man chuckled softly, carefully rising to his feet. He lingered for a few seconds before reluctantly pulling away, walking to the door._

∞§—————§∞

Mark’s eyes opened carefully, leaving him staring up at his ceiling. He swallowed thickly, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. God, Kaitlyn was the last thing he wanted to be thinking about. The man carefully sat up in bed, brushing his hair back with his hand before rubbing his temples. He allowed himself to take another deep breath, his nerves calming as he allowed himself to get back to reality, instead of just some stupid memory. He noticed how the room was still dark, instead of light pouring through the windows as usual. It was still night time, most likely early morning. He yawned a bit, glancing to his left. The man cocked his eyebrow slightly as he noticed his daughter laying beside him, playing with her hands. “Charlotte…what are you doing?” Mark whispered. The young girl flinched slightly, quickly relaxing when she realized it was only her father. Charlotte glanced at him shyly before looking down at her hands, obviously too sheepish to meet his gaze. Mark shifted, waiting for his daughter to respond.

“I had a nightmare,” she squeaked shyly, obviously embarrassed. “You were asleep…” her voice trailed off as she shrugged her shoulders. Mark gave a sympathetic smile, a playful sigh escaping his lips. Charlotte glanced up at him sheepishly shifting slightly on the bed. “Can I stay?” She squeaked.

Mark sighed. “No, honey,” he whispered softly, carefully tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she frowned. “Aww, I know,” he cooed softly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he looked down at her. “I know you wanna stay, believe me, I know…but you can’t, honey. You gotta learn how to sleep in your own bed when you get scared, okay? You can’t always get scared of the dark and need someone there. Does that make any sense?” The young girl didn’t say anything before she reluctantly shrugged her shoulders. Mark gave a half-smile. “Do you want me to carry you back to bed, or can you be a big girl?”

“Pleeeaaase,” Charlotte whined. “I wanna stay here.”

“I know you wanna stay, honey, but-”

“Please…” the young girl insisted softly. Mark looked down at her gently, noticing how her eyes softened in a pleading sort of way. “You gotta protect me from the monsters.” He chuckled softly, cocking his head slightly.

“I gotta protect you, huh?” He questioned. She nodded. Mark swallowed thickly, giving a half-smile. “Okay…” he breathed out reluctantly, noticing how Charlotte’s eyes lit up in return. “But only just this once, okay? You gotta promise. I bought you a night light for a reason.” The young girl giggled, nodding her head reluctantly as she sunk back down onto the bed. He looked down at her gently before reluctantly laying down as well, a content sigh escaping his lips. After a few seconds, Mark allowed himself to close his eyes. He felt a bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you guys enjoyed that chapter. I know it might not seem like much, but it includes both foreshadowing and a bit more of a display of Mark and Charlotte's relationship. I personally love their relationship, especially when Mark had to start taking care of her on his own. 
> 
> Thank you guys for all the support on Baby of Mine, especially 6000 hits! I enjoy reading all of your comments, and I'm going to make a point of replying to each and every comment on this chapter because I really do appreciate each and every one of you.
> 
> Thank you again,  
> Simply
> 
> P.S.  
> Opinions on Kaitlyn?


	21. Ripping Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! I am back!

Mark sighed contently, his eyelashes fluttering as he found himself waking up. This time, he could sense well enough that it was morning, considering the few streaks of light that were pouring through the shudders and draping across the bed in thin strips. The man tilted his head to the right slightly, his cheek pressed against the pillow as he let out another content sigh. Surprisingly, although he had woken up severely early in the morning, Mark felt well-rested. He supposed that came with waking up early and falling right back to sleep almost immediately. The man glanced at the analog clock on his nightstand, which surprisingly hadn’t gone off yet. Either the alarm had just failed to go out that morning, or he had simply woken upon slightly earlier than normal. Knowing his sleep schedule, it was probably the second option. Nevertheless, he sat up slightly so he could check the time; after all, if it _was_ the first scenario, he surely didn’t want to waste another second laying around in bed for the morning to pass by. After all, he had to get ready for work. Mark reached for his analog clock, tilting it slightly and checking the time. 5:08. Earlier than usual, as he had suspected.

Mark glanced over his left shoulder, a soft smile spreading across his face as he noticed his daughter laying beside him, as she had when he woke up the first time. Of course, she wasn’t asleep. Charlotte never seemed to be asleep; she was the type to wake up earlier than the sun, just so she could get the chance to do everything in the morning before she eventually would have to do the same exact thing when Ethan arrived. Mark admired her sense of routine, of course, and wished it was something he would be so reluctant to do. He swept a hand carefully through his hair, cocking his head so that his ear was pressed carefully against his shoulder, looking down at his daughter lovingly. The young girl lay there for a few more seconds, the covers up against her shoulders before she tilted her head slightly, a shy smile spreading across her face when she noticed her father was awake. Mark chuckled softly, giving a playful roll of his eyes as he continued to sit up, the covers draping over his legs and around his waist.

“Mmm, morning,” the man mentioned groggily, rubbing his eyes carefully with his wrist and blinking away the blur, which always came as soon as he woke up. Mark curled his hand into a loose fist, exhaling a yawn and blinking heavily. He leaned back slightly, keeping himself propped up on his elbows, his new fixed on the ceiling. Mark glanced over at his daughter again, a soft, comforting gaze in his eyes. “Did you sleep well?” He questioned gently. “I _implore you_ to say yes, considering I so _graciously_ allowed you to sleep in my bed, even though you’re old enough to sleep on your own.” Charlotte giggled shyly, shifting so that she was sitting up in bed. She gave a hesitant nod, humming softly underneath her breath.

“Uh-huh,” she confirmed happily. Mark let out a soft huff of laughter, shifting his weight from one wrist to the other as he leaned his weight onto his right arm. He supposed he could allow himself to relax for a few more minutes, especially considering he wasn’t even due to wake up for another ten minutes, according to his alarm clock. There wasn’t really a reason for him to be rushing to get ready, anyway. Mark had already finished organizing and preparing his slideshow presentation, which he wasn’t even 100% positive that he would be _presenting_ to begin with. His boss hadn’t been exactly… _straightforward_ with what he was supposed to do exactly. All he knew was that he _could_ be asked to present something on their financial records, which he knew well enough about. After all…Mark had worked in that section of the company for far too long without receiving a promotion…he practically knew everything about the division like the back of his hand; practically inside and out. What he had since dreaded, of course, seemed to be working for his advantage. With skilled knowledge of his division, even if he happened to be merely working in a cubicle. It was the most ironic thing, of course. The fact that he was working in such a low position seemingly _prevented_ him from gaining the promotion…but everyone above him was once in his position. They had changed the rules, he knew that well enough, Changed them to their _advantage_. That was always something that higher-up positions would do; change the rules to stop anyone else from crawling to the same success they too had once reached.

Mark had become used to it, though; he was used to the fact that everyone above him got to work in personal offices, working easier jobs and gaining a higher amount of pay…all because ‘management’ was a sorry excuse for a job. Simply being able to check in on everyone else, as if they could possibly be doing more than him…as if they _deserved_ a higher pay. Part of him was hypocritical, though, and he knew that well enough. After all, Mark would bend over backward at the first opportunity of a promotion. God, he would do _anything_ just to have the same chances that everyone else seemed to have…the people who had already received the extra attention from their boss, or the extra recourses they needed to make a good impression on the other important businessmen of the company. It was in human nature, though, to be hypocritical…to hate the advantages that other people have, but long to have the same nonetheless; working mercilessly to have the same things they had attempted to disregard their entire life, as if not thinking about it was enough to stop him from _wanting_. Mark was hopeful, though…it was a feeling he actually hadn’t felt in quite a long time. For most of his occupation, tied down to the same company…he had never felt a lick of assurance that he would move up in the company. Maybe, in the beginning, he supposed, when Mark was naive to how the system worked, and to who the system assisted. ‘Giving them a boost’ was what he liked to refer to it as.

Either way, his presentation was complete, and the man was prepared to answer absolutely every question that could possibly be thrown at him. About their differing financial records per year, how that was affecting the company, why it even mattered in the first place, as well as how everything ranked up to records that had been revealed by bother neighboring and competitive companies. Mark had worked on similar style projects before, but it had always been with one of his co-workers. Of course, it had always felt like he was completing the presentation on his _own_ , though, since he always seemed to be the only one working. It was like high school and college all over again, after getting paired with someone in a group project. They always ended up being someone he knew nothing about, and they always seemed upset to be working with him in the first place, although they never really contributed anything to the project apart from their complaints. They never seemed to respond to any of his desperate emails or messages, if he had been lucky enough to get their number, and they would even go as far as to leave him on read. Yep…the projects Mark worked on were _exactly_ like the ones from college. He was always lucky enough to get the mere bit of recognition he deserved, of course, although it always seemed to be distributed equally between the members of the project…even the ones who hadn’t done absolutely anything.

By then, of course, Mark had come to remember that life was never fair…and especially not to him in particular. Life was one of the most painful, unfair things in the world, and the man was surprised that it had taken him until his adult life to finally realize it. Sure, he had grown up poor, but Mark had never considered that unfair. He had never doubted the way life worked…until everything all started going downhill for absolutely no reason, completely without explanation. When his girlfriend left him for another man…and when the promotion had been passed to someone who was new and not as deserving of it as him…and even when the daycare decided to up their prices, despite not even being that good…that was when Mark realized life could be a piece of shit, and especially to him in particular. The world seemed to be against him for most of his life, and the fact that the man hadn’t noticed it was quite literally baffling. Part of him wished that he had just figured it out sooner…so he wouldn’t be surprised when life seemed to turn almost completely upside down in the middle of nowhere, going against him despite never having done anything to deserve it. 

Mark had come to learn recently that the only good things in his life were the people who he frequently talked to…at least, the ones he _appreciated_ talking to. His boss surely didn't count, considering he had been overlooking Mark for almost an eternity, turning over opportunities that fit him perfectly to others who didn’t even know the first thing about the position. No…he didn’t count. Charlotte…she counted. The young girl who had seemingly turned his life around when she was born, completely for the better, with just the blinking of her eyes and a soft, almost natural, giggle. For a few years in Mark’s life…she had seemingly been the only light through the darkness. She had never hesitated to make him smile, taking a chance on him while the world and the rest of the people in it overlooked him. Charlotte would see him as only her father…not someone who couldn't get a promotion, or someone who had never been good enough for the love of his life, or someone who could no longer seem to keep a date interested in him. He was just her father, someone who she knew would protect her, and love her, and care for her, even while her mother wasn’t there; while her mother would never _be_ there. Mark couldn't help but smile at the thought. Charlotte had cared enough to see the good in him, when all everyone else saw was the struggling single father. At least, well…he liked to _think_ Ethan didn’t see him as _just_ a single father.

Ethan was really the only person in Mark’s life, apart from his own daughter, who treated him like a person instead of just some pawn in a business proposition. Ethan saw him as a friend. He and the young man would find themselves texting each other on some late nights, both of them probably knowing well enough they were tired, although they stayed up a second later just to squeeze in another message. It was nice. It made him feel like he was in college again, actually keeping in touch with some of his friends. God, those had been the days. Ethan just…there was just something about him. He genuinely seemed to care about watching after Charlotte, and he always asked him if he was alright, and _God_ he was so helpful. Mark had remembered how absolutely _baffled_ he had been when the young man had brought him K-cups over for him, even when they had _barely_ become friends…that was really what pushed it over the edge for the man; the second that he realized that Ethan was a _genuine_ person. It was wonderful… _unexpected_ , to say the least, but wonderful. Mark just felt… _content_ around him. He didn’t feel like he had to hide anything. Sure, it wasn’t something he had to do regularly…but it was nice. The man always felt like he had to put on some facade when he met someone new….Mark never had to do that with Ethan. 

Mark had…never really felt that way around anyone. It was such a natural feeling…but he hadn’t even felt it around Kaitlyn. Just a _calm_ that seemingly lingered overhead whenever they were in the same room…whenever they spoke. It was new. It was…friendly. Mark adored it. Of course, he hoped that nothing would be changed, especially since he would be helping Ethan out with his eating disorder. He didn’t want anything to become awkward between the two of them…something that became _forced_. A forced friendship between the two would be awful…God, he was really the only friend the older man had. It wasn’t like he could just _start_ texting someone else…it was just him. Only him. Mark wouldn’t trade that for anything; the ability to talk to someone so freely, never second-guessing anything he said, allowing everything to spill off of his tongue as he either ranted or just wanted to share a simple conversation. It wasn’t anything that he would ever want to lose, that was what he knew for sure. Ethan didn’t seem to have any uncomfortable feelings about last night…not that Mark knew of, at least. They had managed to share a friendly conversation afterward, a natural laugh following. They had shared a few messages back and forth that night, confirming times and sending a few stupid pictures they had saved, but that was about it. Nothing more, nothing less. The young man sighed contently. He really did love talking to Ethan…just something about it was oddly… _perfect_. Something that he had never experienced while talking to anyone else before.

“Daddy?” Charlotte questioned, breaking the man from his thoughts. Mark glanced over his left shoulder again, shifting on the bed and cocking his head. He let out a soft hum in return, signifying that he had acknowledged her question. The young girl smiled. “Can you braid my hair today?” His daughter asked hopefully, a seemingly pleading look in her eyes, as if she doubted that he would actually do it. “But like… _two braids_. Not just one. It’s just as easy, though, don’t worry.” Mark let out a soft huff of laughter.

“Oh yeah?” The man hummed in return, watching as his daughter nodded just as eagerly in retaliation. Mark pursed his lips slightly, almost as if he was pondering whether or not she would do it. Charlotte clasped her hands almost pleadingly, smiling wider. “I _suppose_ I could braid your hair for you, as long as you _promise_ that it isn’t any harder.” Mark chuckled softly as the girl nodded happily, sitting up a bit more. “Alright, I’ll braid your hair for you…after you get dressed.” Charlotte nodded again, humming happily before she shifted to her left, sliding off of the bed from the other side. The man watched her go, noticing how she had a bounce in each step as she walked to the door, opening it before leaving the room. Mark let out a content sigh, brushing his hand through his hair. He allowed himself to stay in bed for just a few more seconds, savoring the comforting feeling of the blankets enveloping him before he would be greeted by the reality of having to actually _work_ for the rest of the day. Mark paused, reluctantly throwing the covers off of himself, which he knew would be a bitch to straighten later, but he didn’t mind. He turned, slipping off of the bed and finally allowing himself to arch his back, listening as his joints popped all the way down his spine. The man let out a careful grunt before walking to the door, closing it and locking it. As always, the man had showered the night before, so all he had to do was get dressed. He found that it saved time in the morning, anyway.

It didn’t take Mark that long to get dressed. It never did, of course. He hummed softly underneath his breath as he buttoned his shirt all the way up, apart from the top button so he could allow his collar to fall down slightly on his shoulder blades. As always, Mark straightened his tie, pulling on his socks afterward. He straightened up slightly as he heard the sound of his phone dinging almost inaudibly from his nightstand. Mark smiled, automatically knowing who it was. After all, who could it be? Ethan was the only one who bothered texting him, out of all of the people in his contact list. He reached over for his phone, humming happily as he opened it and swiped through his applications, finally finding the messages app. Mark tapped on it contently, tripping over himself to respond to whatever Ethan had to say.

> **E:** Lol

Mark cocked his eyebrow slightly, his heart sinking in his chest. Well...he supposed that wasn’t much of a message. He didn’t know what he had been expecting though, considering he himself had been the one who had last messaged with some stupid picture. The man pursed his lips, wondering if there was really any way he could respond to ‘lol’. Mark reluctantly closed his phone, slipping it into his back pocket before pulling away from his nightstand. He hummed softly, walking to the door to unlock it and open it. Mark slipped out into the hallway; his daughter’s bedroom door was open, so he knew well enough that she had already finished getting dressed. She had started picking out her clothes on her own recently…the man was proud of her, he had to admit, even though it wasn’t that monumental of an accomplishment, such as a child’s first steps or their first words. Mark appreciated it nevertheless, of course, although he knew well enough that it meant she was growing up. It was something the man would have to come to terms with, and he knew that…of course, part of Mark had always hoped that his daughter would stay young forever. The cute little stage in her life where everything she said was quite frankly adorable, and she was just filled with nothing but innocence and affection. Growing up was a part of life, though, he supposed…he would just have to appreciate every day as it came at him; every moment of carrying his daughter while she was young, and tucking her in while she still liked it…reading her stories while he could, holding her hand while they walked…everything that seemed so normal to him currently, but would be seemingly foreign in the future.

Mark walked to the bathroom, leaning in carefully and smiling as he saw his daughter standing on the stool in front of the mirror. Charlotte glanced at him in the mirror, her almond eyes lighting up happily, crinkling slightly as she smiled at him. The man smiled back gently, stepping forward. “Alrighty, let’s try this out…surely it can’t be that much harder.” He smiled softly, glancing at the two pink elastics that rested on the bathroom counter. They matched her outfit. “You’re getting quite skilled at picking out your own outfits,” the man mentioned teasingly, noticing how his daughter giggled softly in return. “Aww, my pretty girl,” he cooed.

“I did it all by myself,” Charlotte confirmed happily.

“Uh-huh,” the man returned slightly. He carefully separated her hair down the middle. “Like a big girl, huh?” Charlotte nodded once again, obviously proud of herself. Mark couldn’t help but smile, sighing contently as he carefully started braiding the three sections of hair he had separated from the right side of her head. “One day you’ll learn how to do braids by yourself,” he mentioned, his pang of sadness lingering in his voice as he looked at his daughter in the mirror. “When you’re older, you’ll be able to do your hair _all_ by yourself. And…you won’t be afraid of the dark anymore. You won’t need to sleep with a night light on, and you’ll be able to read big girl books, with difficult words. _All_ by yourself.” Mark smiled sadly, reaching for the elastic as he finished braiding one side. “You’re gonna sleep in a big girl bed, and one day you’re gonna be old enough to not play with toys anymore.” Charlotte’s eyes widened with surprise, flickering with doubt. The man chuckled softly as he proceeded to braid the other side. “I know, I know…it sounds crazy. But…it’s true.”

“Well…I don’t wanna not play with toys,” Charlotte admitted softly. “And…I don’t wanna read books on my own.” The man smiled, genuinely. “I don’t wanna sleep without a night light.”

“Good,” Mark whispered, gently kissing the top of her head. “Keep it that way. You’re not grown up yet, don’t worry. I still get to tuck you in, and read you bedtime stories, and hold your hand while we cross the street. How does that sound?” Charlotte nodded happily, her eyes flickering with joy as she looked at her father in the reflection. The man smiled back at her gently before he looked back down at his hands, crossing strands of hair over the other before he reached for the elastic again. “All….. _done_ ,” he confirmed, crossing his arms loosely across his chest as he looked down at her braided hair, resting gently down her back. “What’d’you think?” Mark questioned, smiling happily.

“Pretty,” Charlotte giggled, carefully resting each of the braids on her shoulders. “Thank you,” she chirped.

“You’re welcome,” Mark returned, patting her shoulder gently. “Alrighty, kiddo, how about we get you some breakfast and I get my coffee, okay?” The young girl paused to adore her braids again before nodding her head happily. The man let out a soft huff of laughter, pulling away from the bathroom sink before turning to leave. The man hummed underneath his breath, sliding down the hallway on his socks, nearly stumbling over himself as he reached the carpet. Mark regained his composure, walking to the kitchen and hearing his daughter toddle down the hallway after him. “Cereal for breakfast?” He questioned gently.

“Uh-huh, loops,” she confirmed

Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. Cheerios. He walked to the cupboard, retrieving the box of cereal. “So, what are your plans for today?” He asked, glancing over his left shoulder and smiling gently.

“A movie,” Charlotte replied contently, smiling widely. Mark hummed in return, redirecting his focus to the counter as he got her breakfast ready. He could hear the young girl drumming her hands lightly on the table, shifting in her chair. “You can too,” she mentioned thoughtfully, her voice hopeful as if she was attempting to persuade him. Mark let out a soft huff of laughter in return. “You can stay home, and you can watch it with us.” Her voice was filled with pleading innocence, to to the point where Mark knew he would feel bad just having to say no to her, despite it being so customary. Mark glanced over his shoulder again, a sympathetic smile spread across his face as she gave a hopeful smile.

“Honey, you know I gotta go to work,” Mark returned softly, his eyes gentle as he gave her a weak smile. “If Daddy didn’t go to work, his boss would be _very_ upset with him. And I don’t want my boss to be upset. You understand that, right?” His daughter blinked simply before reluctantly nodding her head. “How about this,” the man continued in compromise. “This weekend, you and I can watch a movie together; whichever one you want to watch, within reasoning, we’ll watch. How does that sound?” He smiled hopefully.

Charlotte looked down at her hands, pursing her lips. “Can Ethan come over?” She squeaked softly. It was obvious she just wanted the three of them to be able to watch a movie together…not just one or the other. Mark let out a soft huff of laughter, not surprised by the question. “Please?” The young girl questioned pleadingly, shifting in her chair.

“Well, I can _ask_ Ethan if he’d like to come over this weekend,” Mark replied simply, finishing up her bowl of cereal with a spoon before he walked over to the table, resting it in front of her. “I can’t see the future, though, Char. I don’t know if he’s gonna say yes.” Charlotte smiled nevertheless, reaching for her spoon. Mark pulled away from the table, making his way back to the counter so he could get his cup of coffee ready. “I don’t see why he would say no, though,” the man mentioned hopefully, fishing out a K-cup from the box that Ethan had graciously brought him. HIs last one, he supposed, but he wasn’t going to mention any of that to the younger man. After all, it wasn’t any of Ethan’s business, for Mark knew well enough that the young man would only worry about it if he knew Mark was almost out. The man supposed that was the great thing about having a friend…they cared. They cared about the wellbeing of the other person…genuinely, too. It was everything the man could have ever dreamed of, of course…having someone who cared about him.

Mark fixed himself a cup of coffee, sighing contently as he reached for his mug and made his way over to the kitchen table. He sat beside his daughter, leaning over to press a gentle kiss against her forehead. The young girl giggled softly, glancing at her father. “What’s so funny?” He asked softly, smiling gently in return.

“Your face tickles,” Charlotte giggled. She reached over, pressing her hand against the bit of facial hair Mark had, giggling softly. Mark couldn’t help but laugh softly, a playful roll of his eyes following. 

“Should I shave it off?” Mark suggested jokingly.

Charlotte pursed her lips. “Nu-uh,” she confirmed, taking another bite of her cereal. Mark hummed softly, waiting for her to continue. “I like it. Not too much though. It’s good now.”

“Can’t let it get any loner?” Mark chuckled.

“Uh-huh,” the young girl returned once more. The man smiled softly, taking another sip of his coffee, relaxing contently in the kitchen chair. “Daddy?” Charlotte questioned softly. Mark glanced up from his cup of coffee, glancing to her in return. “What does coffee taste like?” She shifted curiously in her seat, resting her arms on the table. Mark chuckled simply.

“A little gross, to be honest,” the man admitted. His daughter wrinkled her nose in return, looking at him with confusion. “It gives you energy, though. It makes me less tired in the morning.” Charlotte hummed softly. “I don’t really think it tastes that good, but that’s just me personally. Some people like it, though. I’m sure Ethan likes it, he seems to have a lot of it.” The man paused, taking another sip. “You’ll be able to have some when you’re older, it’s not anything you wanna get into. You see, I feel like I _need_ to have coffee in the morning, because it’s a part of my routine. I drink it every morning, so I’m just used to it.” Charlotte nodded in understanding, eating another spoonful of cereal. “How about this. When you’re sixteen, you can have some.” He smiled teasingly.

“ _Sisteen_?” Charlotte repeated, her eyes wide.

“Mhm, sixteen,” the man confirmed, a playful smile across his lips before he took another sip of coffee. “Believe me, you think it’s far away from now…but if you close your eyes for just too long, you’ll be sixteen already. You’ll be learning how to drive a car…wishing I didn’t exist.” Mark gave a half-smile, watching how his daughter closed her eyes for a few seconds, giggling when she opened them. “I know right, sounds impossible?”

“I wouldn’t wish that,” Charlotte giggled.

“Well, I’ll take your word for it for now,” Mark admitted, followed by another sip of coffee. He cleared his throat, glancing at his daughter again. “I was sixteen once, too, believe it or not. And, believe me, being a teenager isn’t exactly _fun_. You’re mad at everybody almost all the time, you like being left alone…you lose interest in things that used to excite you. You know…all that good stuff.” He gave an awkward smile. “But you don’t gotta worry about that…you still got your whole life ahead of you. No need to waste it away.” He smiled gently. “How does that sound?”

“Good,” his daughter giggled, finishing up the rest of her cereal. She hopped up happily, reaching for her bowl before toddling to the sink. Mark chuckled softly as she stood on her toes, doing her best to carefully rest it in the sink. “All by myself,” she confirmed happily.

“Don’t grow up too fast on me,” Mark admitted, leaning back in his chair. Charlotte giggled, toddling back over to her chair to sit next to him once more. The man finished up his coffee, resting his mug to the side. “If I got to choose, I would keep you this age forever…” his voice trailed off as he swept his hair back slightly. “ _But_ …I _guess_ I can allow it…for now. Just take your time. When you’re older, you’re going to wish you were younger…and when you’re younger, you always wish you were older. The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, believe it or not…no matter how much you try to believe it’s not.” Charlotte tapped her hands on the table lightly, thinking for a few seconds.

“Do you wish you were younger?” She questioned curiously.

Mark paused for a few seconds. Well, he supposed life had once been kind to him when he was younger. Six years ago…when Charlotte had first been born. When he had someone who loved him just the same, who wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. When part of him had still believed that there was a _chance_ at having the shot at a promotion. The man sighed, finally clearing his thoughts. “No,” he admitted truthfully, shrugging his shoulders. Sure, he supposed that everything he had once had and dreamed of having was nice, and had helped him come far…but he enjoyed life where it was. “I’ve got you, and I’ve got Ethan. I didn’t know him when I was younger…I didn’t really _have_ a lot of friends when I was younger. So, I think I’ll stay the same for now.” Charlotte nodded happily. “And you know what? I wouldn’t change… _anything_ that has ever happened to me. Not a single thing. I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.”

“Really?” Charlotte asked softly.

“Uh-huh,” Mark returned. He thought for a few seconds. “Would you change anything?” He gave a sympathetic smile. He knew well enough what his daughter was going to say. She would mention something about her mother…something about wanting her back, Mark already knew that. The man didn’t blame her, though. It was a natural response. He watched as his daughter pursed her lips, obviously allowing herself to think for a few seconds.

“Nu-uh,” the young girl finally confirmed. Mark cocked his eyebrow, slightly surprised by her answer. It wasn’t what he had expected, to say the least. “I like everything.”

“Well…that’s good,” the man breathed out in return, a confident smile this time. “Keep it that way. You can’t change the past, no matter how bad it is…but bad pasts sometimes make for good futures. You and I probably got good futures, huh?” His daughter giggled, nodding her head happily. He smiled, ruffling her hair playfully before standing up from the table, his mug in hand. “Alrighty, Charlotte, how about you go get your bedroom all cleaned up, okay?”

“Okay,” the young girl said softly. Mark smiled as he watched her slip out of her chair, toddling off to her bedroom. His gaze lingered on her for a few more seconds, a familiar sense of pride washing over him, one that he felt almost every time he looked at his daughter. God, Mark found beyond lucky to have her in his life. It was once a thought that he had dreaded, and something he had convinced himself he would regret…but ever since the day she had been born, the man hadn’t regretted a single thing.

∞§—————§∞

_Mark rolled onto his back, letting out a soft groan as a wail echoed through the hallway. He felt the bed shifting beside him, Kaitlyn groaning with drowsy frustration against her pillow, shielding her face. It was obvious they had both been woken up. He opened his eyes tiredly, staring up at the ceiling. He already knew well enough what was going on. Charlotte had woken up in the middle of the night and was obviously uncomfortable by herself, as she always was. It was nothing new, of course, and it was a duty that Kaitlyn herself had often been willing to get out of bed for. Although, recently, the woman had become more hesitant and less eager to climb out of bed and soothe her. Mark let out another groan, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Babe…she’s crying again,” the man whispered softly into the darkness of the room, glancing over his left shoulder. He watched as his girlfriend shifted, pulling the covers over her shoulders and against her back as she continued to lay on her stomach, ignoring the man. “Babe…Charlotte likes it when you-”_

_“Do it yourself,” Kaitlyn muttered in return, her voice littered with frustration as she tossed the thought aside. The man opened his mouth to protest, but he quickly closed it. He knew well enough that arguing about it would do nothing, and he supposed it was slightly selfish to just try to push that task onto her. However, Mark remembered, Kaitlyn was the_ best _at getting Charlotte to calm down. She had a good singing voice…the young man hardly knew the first thing about singing to someone, especially when it was over the matters of trying to get a baby to stop crying. That had never really been his strongest skill…after all, Kaitlyn was the one who stayed home at Charlotte for most of the day. The young man was more than certain that she had had to deal with more than one tantrum of tears, whether it be her a full diaper or an empty stomach. Mark supposed it was a skill that he would have had to obtain eventually, considering his girlfriend had recently mentioned a job opportunity she was thinking of taking, which would require her to take business trips in Colorado. That would mean he would be spending the days alone, he supposed…he would have to get used to that for a week at a time. Nothing too long, though._

_“Look, are you going to actually get out of bed, or are you really going to make me get up and do it?” Kaitlyn questioned, picking her face up from being buried in the pillow to look at him. Her messy dark hair stuck to her forehead slightly, her eyes squinted as she peered through the darkness to look at him clearly. It was obvious she was tired, Mark knew that well enough. “She’s not going to stop crying if you just leave her there; even if you did, I don’t want to listen to sobbing for another hour. So just…_ do it _.” Kaitlyn rested her face back on the pillow again, reaching her hands up to fold the pillow slightly against each of her ears, obviously trying to block out the noise. Mark swallowed thickly, hesitantly sitting up in bed, the blankets shifting and pooling around his waist. He sat there for a second before slipping out of bed, feeling the cool air of the room rushing against his bare chest. The man took a step into the darkness, opening the drawer and sifting his hand through to find a nightshirt. Mark reluctantly pulled one on, walking carefully to the door._

_Mark glanced back over his shoulder slightly as he opened the door, a strip of light from the hallway flooding into the room, streaking across the bed. He paused for a few seconds, giving a content smile. Even when his girlfriend was pissed off, she was slightly adorable…in a way, he supposed. The young man slipped carefully into the hallway, closing the door behind him so Kaitlyn would grow frustrated with the light. He winced slightly from the sound of his daughter crying from her bedroom, loud sobs echoing through the apartment. God, Mark didn’t know how thick the walls were, but he only hoped that he wouldn’t be upsetting any of the other people who lived in the apartment complex. He walked over carefully to her bedroom, gently turning the knob. Mark gave a sympathetic smile as the light flooded into the room after him, allowing him to see clearly. He didn't want to turn the light on, since he knew that would only frustrate Charlotte more, so he simply allowed the light from the hallway to work on its own. The young man could see her crib standing carefully against the wall, her arms flailing slightly and her legs kicking as she cried._

_“Hey, hey, hey,” Mark whispered softly, his voice gentle as he stepped carefully into the room. “Shhh, it’s okay, everything’s alright…” his voice trailed off lightly. The young man made his way over to the crib, gripping the railing ever so gently as he peered over the side. He bit his lip hesitantly. He had never really done this before…it was something that his girlfriend had always done; soothing the baby wasn’t one of his strong points. Mark sucked in a soft breath, hesitantly reaching his arms into the crib to scoop her up, before pausing. Was that…right? Was this what he was supposed to be doing? He paused, glancing over his left shoulder. Mark supposed he didn’t have his girlfriend beside him to tell her if what he was doing was right…so he would have to assume. The young man gave a final sigh, reluctantly picking up his daughter and looking down at her lovingly. “Shhh, you’re okay,” he whispered softly, bouncing his daughter carefully as he held her in his arms, rocking her with the hope that it would get her to stop crying. The young girl couldn’t be hungry…and her diaper didn’t look full. Mark didn't even_ know _why she was crying. “Everything’s okay…you’re okay; you’re alright.”_

_Charlotte continued crying._

_“I…I don’t know how to help you,” Mark whispered softly, glancing over his shoulder again. God, this was harder than he thought. “I’ve never…I’ve never done this before…how do I get you to stop?” His voice was soft, but he spoke to her as if she could actually understand him…as if she would be able to_ answer _him. Mark sighed softly underneath his breath. Maybe he wasn’t really cut out for this. Sure, it was one thing to_ accept _that he had a kid, and to have a natural desire to want to protect her…but it was another thing to actually be cut out for everything; to actually have what it takes to care for a child. The young man wasn't even sure if he was any good at that…if he would_ ever _be good at that. “You’re okay…you’re okay, I promise,” he whispered softly. “Daddy’s here, you’re okay now.” He pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead, noticing how the sobs seemed to become quieter, although they didn’t stop entirely. “I know, I know,” Mark continued, “I’m not your mommy…I guess she’s better at doing all of this than I am, huh?” He continued rocking her, hoping that his girlfriend wasn’t growing frustrated with him._

_Mark let out a tired sigh, shushing her gently. He bit his lip. “How about I sing to you?” The man suggested, giving an awkward expression as he cleared his throat. “Your mommy does that, huh?” Charlotte kept crying. He sucked in a soft breath, swallowing his pride as he gently rocked him in his arms. Mark started singing to her softly, his voice in the same hushed tone as before, doing his best to attempt and recite the lullaby his mother had sung to him when he was younger. Mark’s voice was hardly audibly from underneath his daughter’s cries, but he kept singing nevertheless, all in attempts to soothe his daughter. The young man gazed down at Charlotte lovingly, noticing how she gently stopped crying long enough to open her eyes, Mark smiled down at her as he sang, holding back his laughter at the way she looked up at him in wonder…the way her crying ceased. The man couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, repeating the same verse. After a few more seconds of allowing himself to sing, he allowed his voice to trail off, soon being comforted by the silence. Mark gazed down at her gently, noticing how she giggled tiredly._

_“That better?” The young man whispered softly, letting out a soft huff of laughter as she blinked heavily, gurgling a bit. Mark smiled softly, gently leaning over the crib again. “Alright, princess, you gotta go to bed now, okay?” He gently reached down to rest her in the crib, but he was quickly cut off by the sound of her shrieking again. Mark’s eyes widened as he drew her close again, making another soft shushing sound, cringing awkwardly when he heard the sound of his girlfriend groaning with frustration from their bedroom. “Shhh, it’s okay, I’m still here,” he whispered quickly, holding her close again and speaking to her gently. “Daddy’s still here, I didn’t go anywhere. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you, okay? I’m not gonna leave you, don’t worry.” He rocked her gently, listening as she calmed down slowly once again. Mark stood there for a few seconds, not knowing what he was supposed to do. At that point, he knew well enough that_ him _being there was the reason she was content…but he couldn’t just stand and hold her for the entire night. He glanced around hesitantly, reluctantly sighing. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispered softly. “If I put you down again…Katy’s gonna kill me.”_

_Charlotte gurgled again._

_“Yeah, exactly,” he returned, almost as if she was speaking to him. Mark sighed reluctantly, finally getting an idea. “This is a one-time thing, you know,” he whispered softly, looking down at his daughter, who was starting to blink tiredly. He turned on his heels, carefully exiting his daughter’s bedroom while he held her in his arms. “I’m not gonna do this every night for you…I gotta get my beauty sleep too.” Mark smiled to himself, guiding himself carefully over to the couch in the living room. He sucked in a heavy breath, carefully sitting down as he shifted her in his arms. “Alright, how about this?” He mentioned, carefully laying on his back, Charlotte laying on her stomach on his chest. “Are you okay with this?” Charlotte babbled a bit, contently closing her eyes. The young man chuckled softly, gently kissing her head before laying back. He let out a content sigh, glancing up at the ceiling of the dark living room. Mark rested his hand gently on her back, allowing himself to close his eyes as he felt his daughter relax against him. The young girl yawned silently, remaining silent afterward. “You’re such a daddy’s girl, you know that?” He chuckled softly._

∞§—————§∞

Mark felt himself being ripped from his thoughts as there was a knock at the door. For a few seconds, he sat there, blinking his eyes heavily now that he wasn’t staring off into space. He glanced over his right shoulder. After a few seconds, he reluctantly stood to his feet, walking over to the door. Mark hummed, clearing his throat before he opened the door, smiling a bit when he was met with Ethan on the other side. The young boy smiled, shifting slightly on his feet before giving a half-wave. Mark stood there, not saying anything for a few seconds, although he didn’t know why. Reluctantly, however, he cleared his throat. “Uh, hi,” he said, letting out a soft huff of laughter. Mark awkwardly took a step back, allowing Ethan to walk into the apartment.

“Hi,” Ethan giggled softly. He shifted slightly on his feet again. “Uh…so, am I staying over for dinner tonight?” He questioned awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. Mark gave a sympathetic smile, reluctantly nodding his head. Ethan sighed a bit before nodding weakly in return. “I assumed that you wouldn’t forget…” he whispered, glancing to his side before shrugging his shoulders. “Just thought I’d ask and all.” Mark gave a smile, nodding in understanding.

“It’s okay, you know,” Mark whispered. “To…be scared of change and everything.” He didn’t really know how he was supposed to phrase it. He knew something was eating away at Ethan…something that the young man wouldn’t admit himself. Mark didn’t want Ethan to be forced to talk about it if he didn’t want to, though. He knew that everything itself was a touchy subject. “I just…I want you to know that I’m here for you, okay? I’m here for you if you need anything, or if you need anyone to talk to, or you need a shoulder to cry on. I…” his voice trailed off simply, trying to find the right words. “I’ll be here for you. And I know you probably don’t want my help, and you think that you can’t do it alone, but-”  
“Thank you,” Ethan replied genuinely, a half-smile spread across his lips as he shrugged his shoulder. “For everything, really. It’s…you’re right. I _really_ do want help, Mark, I promise. I’m just new to all of this, so I’m sorry if I get upset or frustrated with you tonight. This is really all new for me, and I’ve never had someone who’s actually known what I’m going through and has wanted to help me. It’s a good new, don’t get me wrong…but it’s something I’ll have to get used to. So, if I snap…or if I say something stupid and cruel…I really don’t mean it. I’m just a defensive person, and I don’t like it when people see a vulnerable side of me. If that…makes any sense?” He gave an awkward look. Mark smiled, nodding his head. The young man’s eyes lit up happily in return. “Awesome,” he confirmed, taking a step forward. Mark flinched slightly as he watched the young man’s foot graze one of Charlotte’s blocks, getting him off guard and sending him tumbling forward. The man’s eyes widened as he felt Ethan grab onto his shoulders, leaning his weight on him, just like Mark had done with him back at the ice skating rink. The man looked down at him sheepishly, a shy smile on his face.

“You okay?” Mark questioned jokingly, watching how the young man looked up at him awkwardly in return. He let out a soft huff of laughter when he noticed his uncomfortable expression. “You can let go of me, now, if you’d like too,” he continued thoughtfully. Ethan’s eyes widened as he quickly picked himself up. The man knelt down carefully, reaching for the block that the young brunette had tripped on. “Sorry…if I had noticed this, I would have picked it up before you _decided_ to fall,” he joked, tossing it onto the couch. Ethan chuckled softly, playfully shrugging his shoulders. And, suddenly, it wasn’t as awkward anymore. The young brunette shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing down at his feet, and Mark followed his gaze. His heart shuddered slightly when he noticed the colorful rainbows socks peeking out ever so slightly from his converse sneakers, tucked carefully underneath his black jeans. Mark cleared his throat. “I, uh, I like your socks,” he mentioned thoughtfully, smiling a bit. “Colorful.”

Ethan looked back up from his shoes, giving a thankful smile. “Oh, thanks,” he returned. “I could get you a pair if you’d like,” he joked.

“No, that’s…that’s fine,” Mark said simply. “I, uh…I already have a pair.” He gave a half-smile, noticing how Ethan’s eyes flickering were mere curiosity. The man smiled softly, clearing his throat again. “Well, before I leave, I just thought I’d mention that Charlotte was hoping you could come over for the weekend and watch a movie with us. She would kill me if I didn’t ask you.” Ethan chuckled softly.

“I’d love to,” he admitted. “I’ll make sure to clear my empty schedule.”

Mark let out a huff of laughter in return. “Good to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowowow, thank you guys for literally all of the support! We're almost on 7000 hits, which is absolutely insane, and I'm so excited to continue writing this. As last chapter, I'm going to reply to a lot of your guy's comments because they honestly make me so happy and I love interacting with you guys! I wouldn't enjoy writing this fic as much as I do knowing that so many people love it. 
> 
> Just a little bit of realization and foreshadowing here, but I hoped you enjoyed!
> 
> Comments + Kudos appreciated
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply


	22. Bella Notte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I actually think it’s the longest one I’ve ever written (which is why it took two full days, lol)  
> I just couldn’t bear to split this up into two chapters, because everything just flows so WELL together, and I didn’t want to make you guys wait more time when I could just push it all out at once. Hopefully you don’t mind, lol  
> Also, I decided to give Ethan some flashback backstories of his own. I don’t know if I’ll add more, because I personally don’t think his backstory is all that complicated, and it’s been described well without the need of flashbacks. However, I might make a flashback of the phone call, and you’ll figure out what I’m talking about later on in this chapter.  
> Either way, I hope you enjoy!

_Ethan swallowed thickly as he stood outside the door of the office, wondering what he could possibly be being called in for. It wasn’t every day that anything he did was brought to the attention of the dean and headmaster…there wasn’t really anything that he had done_ wrong _. At least…not that Ethan was aware of. All of his social media posts were pretty standard…nothing that could be seen as prejudiced behavior. Only an occasional picture of him and his friends…they were never doing anything stupid, it couldn’t be that. Not even his_ Snapchats _had anything that warranted the worry of the faculty organization at his college. Sure, there was the occasional Snapchat message about how he hadn’t finished up his project yet…but he always submitted everything on time. It wasn’t like it was_ illegal _to take his time on a project; his college wasn’t anything prestigious after all. So, since it obviously wasn’t social media…he didn’t know what else it could be. The young brunette was nothing but respectful to his teachers, even though he didn’t appreciate_ all _of them. His emails were courteous, and he never went out of his way to bother them…surely it couldn’t be a problem with_ them _. And, if it was, Ethan knew well enough that_ he _would have to be the one asking questions, since he never did anything wrong._

_God…he didn’t even do drugs or anything like that either. The_ number _of students he could throw under the bus at that exact second, just for the sake of the fact that practically everything they did was illegal…God, more than he could count on his hands. Ethan didn’t do drugs, he didn’t smoke, he didn’t vape, he didn’t even_ drink _. It wasn’t like the young brunette was even invited to parties where he could get trashed, anyway. No one wanted_ him _at their parties…so it was never really anything he would have to worry about. Ethan often found himself sitting alone in his dorm during the afternoons and evenings, when he didn’t have classes, working on all of the projects he knew he had to finish. Those took awfully long for him to complete, considering how difficult it always was for him to focus on certain things. Ethan knew that there were other students in his school who always managed to complete the assignments early…it was obvious why the young man wasn’t the teacher’s pet for any of the professors…it wasn’t like he was extraordinary._

_That same morning, however, despite how he was so completely insistent that he hadn’t done anything wrong…he had received an email straight from the dean. The entire email had been extremely vague, which only put Ethan on edge more than he needed to be. If they had simply told Ethan what the problem was, maybe he would be able to convince himself that he had indeed_ not _done what they were assuming. However, the young man knew that everything would just blow over as soon as he explained that everything they would accuse him of was simply untrue. Ethan sucked in a soft breath, glancing over his right shoulder hesitantly and watching as the other students walked by him, their backpack slung over their shoulder as they spared him glances of sympathy or humor, of course, accompanied with the same smug expression which seemed to display how_ he _was the one in the headmaster’s office for once. Ethan refused to meet their gaze; it was embarrassing, of course, even if he_ wasn’t _in trouble…it was obvious that at least a few people would be talking about how ‘little Ethan Nestor got sent to the headmaster’s office’ later on. And, of course, he would be just as helpless as to fight back against any of the accusations, since college students were always the hardest to persuade._

_Ethan sucked in a final breath, attempting to clear his mind before he opened the door to the headmaster’s office. Immediately, as soon as he opened the door, he was greeted by a few of the faculty members standing beside each other, obviously mid-conversation; however, the room fell silent. The dean, who was sitting in a chair across from the headmaster, turned slightly around in his seat to look at him. Ethan swallowed thickly, shifting the weight of his backpack from one shoulder to the other, awkwardly standing in the doorway and wondering if he should step in or not. Well, obviously he knew well enough that he would have to…but he didn’t want to. The man just wanted to act as if he hadn't seen the email…to just turn back time and never show up, because he knew right away that all of this was going to be uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he stood there, waiting to be invited in as he watched the headmaster look up from the papers on his desk, a somewhat sympathetic smile as he waved his hand over._

_“Ah, Mr. Nestor, thank you for making such good time,” his headmaster, Mr. Jameson, mentioned. His voice wasn’t littered with any impending misfortune or discomfort…surely everything was alright. The man cleared his throat, shifting in his chair and pushing the papers aside. Mr. Jameson folded his hands carefully on the desk before gesturing to the seat beside the dean, Mr. Harlow, which remained unoccupied. “Please, have a seat,” he offered, the same gentle smile remaining on his face. “You and I have got some things to go through, Mr. Nestor, I hope you didn’t have any plans for tonight and such.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. Ethan glanced at the dean with discomfort, saying nothing as he hesitantly walked over to the chair. He took his backpack off, placing it down beside the seat before reluctantly sitting down. He glanced at a few of his professors, wondering what they were even doing there in the first place._

_“Um, what is this about, sir?” Ethan questioned hesitantly, his voice coming out shaky. It was obvious to everyone in the room that he was nervous, and the young brunette wasn’t even going to attempt to hide it. He awkwardly sat on his hands, shifting in his chair before his knee started bouncing. “If there was something to find written between the lines of the email, I’m afraid I didn’t really catch it. I’m a little confused, actually as to why you need to see me, I…” Ethan’s voice trailed off as he tried to make sense of everything, attempting to pick up the clues and read the room. Everyone’s expression was just sickeningly sympathetic, which was something the young man would never understand. He looked to the dean, who looked away from him. Ethan finally looked back at the headmaster. “I’m sure I’m just getting myself worked up over nothing…”_

_Mr. Jameson’s expression remained blank as he cleared his throat. “Ethan, how are things at home for you?” He questioned. The young man wrinkled his nose, slightly confused with the question. Had…had something happened to his family that he wasn’t aware of? “Are you…are you keeping in touch with them enough? Are they still talking to you…still letting you home and such?”_

_Ethan opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds, slightly confused. “Uh, well…we kinda keep in touch,” he mentioned, hesitantly scratching the back of his head. He didn’t really want to treat his headmaster like he was a therapist or anything. He wasn’t even sure if it was any of his_ business _. “I mean…I don’t really go out of my way to talk to them anymore. We, uh…we don’t always agree on everything. They didn’t want me to move to the city for college, so we kinda disagreed when it came to that. Um…” his voice trailed off as he watched Mr. Jameson nod his head as he spoke, almost as if to prove that he was paying attention. “You know…a lot of people grow distant from their parents when they grow older, it happens to everyone. It’s not like I’m afraid to text them, or anything.” He cleared his throat. “Is…is my family relevant to what’s going on? Are they…are they okay?”_

_“Oh, believe me, your family is fine,” Mr. Jameson assured him. ‘We just wanted to know that everything is going okay with you at home, making sure that wasn’t anything that’s distracting you. You’re…you’re not distracted by them, are you?”_

_“No, I’m not distracted by them,” Ethan confirmed quickly. It didn’t know where this conversation was going. “I’m not…_ depressed _, or anything…if that is what this is about.”_

_“Is that’s what’s distracting you?” Mr. Jameson questioned gently. “People think you’re depressed, and you don’t like that?  
“What? No,” the young man returned, swallowing thickly. He had absolutely no idea what was going on. “No, I’m not distracted. _Nothing _is distracting me…” his voice trailed off with frustration. “I’m not depressed, I’m not distracted…I don’t even know why I’m here._ No one _is telling me why I’m here.” Ethan leaned back in his seat, trying to pull himself together. Mr. Jameson glanced the dean before taking a soft breath, looking back to the young brunette. Ethan sat simply in his chair, not even knowing what he was supposed to say anymore…and it didn’t help that no one was saying anything to him, or tell him what he had done wrong._ Had _he done something wrong? Surely he_ must _have done something to warrant him a visit to the headmaster’s office._

_“Ethan, it’s been brought to my attention by several of your professors that you’re not…pulling your weight in any of their classes,” Mr. Jameson announced. The young man looked up from his hands, his eyes widening before he glanced at a few of his professors who stood in the room. They couldn’t be serious. Mr. Jameson_ couldn’t _be serious. Never_ once _had Ethan gone out of his way to purposely not complete a project…hell, he had never left an assignment uncompleted, to begin with. In group assignments, he would always make sure to keep int ouch with all of the other students to complete the presentation, and he would always email his teachers back right away. Never once had he shown them disrespect, and he really did try his hardest. Ethan never half-assed any of his work…he put_ everything _he had into them, staying up late at night to complete things and make them to what he considered to be perfect. The young brunette opened his mouth to protest, but he was quickly cut off. “Mr. Nestor, this is very serious, and it is surely something that you’re aware of too?” Ethan sat there weakly._

_“I…I mean…” he attempted, his voice trailing off as he looked down at his hands._

_“I’ve been informed that your professors have gone out of their way to reach out to you, so you_ know _that you’re not trying your hardest,” Mr. Jameson continued. Ethan remained silent. Yes…he had been emailed before…but he really thought he had fixed everything. Even when they_ had _emailed him, he had been pulling his weight. Never once in his student career had he gone out of his way to just…neglect an assignment. The young man didn’t think…he didn’t think that any of this would happen. He didn’t think that he would be sitting across from the headmaster, beside the dean, talking about how he supposedly wasn’t doing enough. “Now, Mr. Nestor, you and I know well enough that a lack of effort is something that has never been tolerated here at this establishment. You have received_ several _warnings, all of which you have responded with the familiar promise that you would do better. However, Mr. Nestor…your grades have not risen since then. In fact, they haven’t even stayed the same; they’ve dropped. You’re failing one of your courses, and you’re just toeing the line of another failed class after submitting a, and excuse my language…_ half-assed _essay. Surely you know which one I’m referring to? The essay for your Film Studies course, underneath Mrs. Iris?”_

_Ethan’s heart sunk in his chest. That was one of the essays that he had stayed up past_ midnight _working on, sitting on his bed as his back stiffened; hunched over his keyboard, trying to type as fast as he could and get out everything he wanted to say. Rereading and rereading and rereading, editing practically every paragraph so that he could make it_ perfect _. God, Ethan had thought it was one of his best essays. He had_ genuinely _tried his best. Ethan’s face crumbled slightly as he let out a soft “oh…”, his voice trailing off sadly. Mr. Jameson cleared his throat again._

_“This has been happening for quite some time now, Mr. Nestor…really ever since you started attending this college,” he continued. Ethan looked down weakly at the floor, no longer able to even glance up and make eye contact. He just didn’t want to say anything. “Now, we were able to excuse your behavior for your first year here, and we were able to assume that maybe it was just the shift from high school to college._ However _, now that you’ve been given more than enough time to adjust, as well as the time to prove yourself worthy to your teachers…you’re showing no results. And, as you know, this is obviously something that we do not tolerate at this establishment. Our school may not be considered prestigious, but we do have standards for all of our faculty and students. Your professors have shown you nothing but patience, but you relentlessly continue to procrastinate on your essays, and-”_

_“I don’t procrastinate on any of my essays,” Ethan insisted, glancing at a few of his professors out of the corner of his eye. “I…I spend_ so _much time on then, sir, you have no idea. Ask my roommate, he’ll tell you. He’ll tell you himself, he's seen me. I…you…you can’t just sit here and tell me that I’m not doing enough when I’m trying my best. I_ really _am trying my best. If I needed help from the professors, I would have emailed them, but I thought…I_ assumed _that I had started fixing everything.” Mr. Jameson sighed, that same sympathetic look flickering in his eyes. God, Ethan hated it. He hated knowing that the people in the room were seemingly_ pitying _him, as if they_ actually _felt sorry for him. The young brunette didn’t say anything, though. He simply sat there, waiting for the headmaster to continue speaking. The young man knew well enough that he would probably be suspended, where they would ask him to ‘focus on himself’ while he stayed in his dorm. It had happened to his friends before._

_“Mr. Nestor, your professors, and the dean, and I have been emailing back and forth recently, especially after your grade in Film Studies dropped dramatically,” Mr. Jameson finally continued, glancing over his shoulder at the teachers before letting out a sigh. “And…we’ve mutually decided that we wish for you to politely drop out of college.” Ethan’s heart almost stopped. He looked at them, his bottom lip curling slightly before he recomposed himself. What…what did they mean? Were they honestly asking for him to just…_ leave _? No…no, he couldn’t leave. Where was he supposed to go? What was he supposed to tell his parents? God, he had_ argued _with them just so he could get to the city…just so they would get off his back. Now, what was he supposed to tell them? That he had_ dropped out _? “You’re a good kid, Ethan. Really, you are…we don’t want you getting expelled from college on your files. So, we’re giving you this opportunity now to drop out on your own terms, and you won’t have to worry about any of this in the future. You getting expelled won’t be on any of your files, and I suppose you can keep your pride with you, hm?” Ethan was speechless, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to choke out a sentence. “I know this may seem confusing right now,” the headmaster mentioned, “but your professors and I believe this is for your own good. Maybe you could take some time off from education…focus on yourself for a while. I’m not gonna tell you how to run your life, but-”_

_“What am I supposed to tell my parents?” Ethan breathed out, his voice shaking as he looked up from his hands. “What am I supposed to tell them? Where…where am I supposed to live? I was living on campus…I-I don’t have a job. I…I can’t afford an apartment.” God, he felt as if he was hyperventilating. The headmaster simply stared back at him, listening attentively…but Ethan knew that he didn't care. He knew that_ none _of the people in the room cared. “I can’t…I can’t_ tell _them. The reason we don’t_ talk _is that they didn’t want me to move to the city, and I…I tried to convince them that…” his voice trailed off again. God, he was panicking. Part of him felt like he couldn’t_ breathe _. Jesus Christ, all of this was just going downhill._ Everything _. “I…I can’t, I can’t do this, I can’t leave,” the young brunette rambled on. “Please…”_

_“Mr. Nestor,” Mr. Jameson repeated, sighing softly as he tried to regain his thoughts. “Your professors…they’ve been emailing about this since the beginning of the year. They’ve been making it_ very _apparent that you haven’t been trying very hard in your classes-”_

_“I’m trying as hard as I can,” Ethan choked out, his eyes watering slightly. He sucked in a heavy breath, quickly wiping his eyes with his wrist. He felt stupid. “I really am…I’m trying so hard. I try harder whenever they tell me that I need to work more, but all of it is just so difficult. It takes forever just to write out an essay, and it’s almost impossible to read it over and edit it. I always get stuck on the same paragraphs, and-”_

_“Then it sounds like, to me, Mr. Nestor,” the headmaster continued, quickly cutting the student off like he had done to him, “that you dropping out would only be good for you. It’s obvious that if you are_ truly _trying your best, that it just isn’t quite enough…maybe college isn't for you, Ethan. And that’s nothing to be ashamed of. College isn’t for everyone, and you don’t have to have a degree to be successful.” What a bunch of bullshit, Ethan knew that well enough. The young man knew that having a college degree would be the only way to get a good job, which would be the only way to afford an apartment that he didn't even_ have _yet. It wasn’t the 60’s anymore, where it was acceptable to not go to college, yet somehow manage to have success in life. In this day and age, it seemed as if everyone was_ pressured _into going to college. Ethan had been told his entire life that his education would be the only thing that would strengthen his career…that was what he had been brought up on. Ethan knew well enough, however, that his parents wouldn’t be amused if they were told that he wanted to attend a different college...he knew they wouldn’t help pay for it, that was for sure. And Ethan sure as hell couldn't afford it, and the last thing he needed was student debt…so this was it. This was the end of the line when it came to education, and he would have to make the seemingly massive leap from student life into the real world, two paths that he didn’t think he would have to cross for another two years._

_“No, no,” Ethan insisted, shaking his head. “I can’t…you can’t do this to me. Please, you don’t understand, my parents would never say a word to me ever again if I told them I got kicked out of college. Where am I supposed to go? I don't have family anywhere in the city, they all live in Maine. I want to stay in the city, this is all I’ve ever dreamed of, but I didn't think I would have to be forced out into this so soon. Please, give me another chance. All I need is another chance, I promise. I won’t mess up this time, I can't mess up. I’ll…I’ll ask for help more, I’ll stay up later, I’ll reread my essays more.” The young man let out a sigh, obviously filled with desperation._

_“Ethan, this really isn’t anything debatable,” Mr. Harlow whispered underneath his breath, his voice sympathetic…as if he actually_ cared _. “We didn't email you to come here so you could try to make amends; we’ve tried our best to help you, but it’s obvious that no amount of warnings will be enough to convince you to change your act." Ethan sat there weakly, taking every single blow they threw at him. he wasn’t a child anymore, and everyone in the room knew that...that was why they wouldn't listen to him. they thought that everything he had to say was some pathetic excuse for ‘why he couldn't get his act together', but he_ had _gotten his act together. Ethan was trying his best, and he was_ trying _to get everyone in the room to understand that…but they wouldn’t listen to them. “Now, we’ve been so kind as to offer you the possibility of dropping out on your own terms…nothing has to be on records, we won't have to write an expulsion on file. If you think about this in the terms of the future, the option we’re giving you is_ extremely _beneficial. Schools won’t question you if you drop out. But this isn’t something we're going to go back and forth about, Mr. Nestor. If you aren’t going to take the opportunity Mr. Jameson has been so gracious as to offer you, we_ will _make a notice for your immediate expulsion.” The young man. sat there weakly, slumping down slightly in his chair._

_“This is nothing against you personally, Ethan,” Mrs. Iris insisted. Ethan glanced at her, his eyes void of expression and filled with tears instead. “You have excellent manners in my class…you don't always pay attention, but you treat everyone with respect…but something that isn’t enough. You hardly take any notes in my class, and it’s obvious that you’re not trying enough on these essays…this doesn't say anything about your character, Ethan. It’s just us telling you that you have so much_ potential _…but it’s obviously no use to you here.” The young man propped his elbows on his knees, holding his face in his hands, trying not to sob. God, it was awful…everything had been_ fine _the other day. Yesterday, he never would have guessed that any of this would happen. He assumed he would be sitting in the same classrooms, going home to his dorm to complete an assignment, waking up the next day just to start the cycle all over again. Ethan didn’t think that his college career and student life would be cut short due to…God, he didn't even know whose fault it was._

_“We’ll give you the weekend, Ethan,” Mr. Jameson whispered softly. If it weren't for the fact that he had practically just kicked him out, the young man could have sworn he was reassuring. “I can sincerely tell you that all of the faculty here at this establishment respect you fully as a person, and we wish that it didn't have to be like this. Maybe you can return to education when you’ve worked on yourself.” He smiled. God, that smile. It was the fakest thing that Ethan had ever seen, he couldn’t even explain it. The young man sat there for a few seconds. “You’re excused, Mr. Nestor,” the headmaster said finally, giving a simple gesture of his had to shoo him away, almost as if he was a pest. “If you have any further questions about the process, I would be more than happy to answer them through email. I really do wish you the best.” Ethan looked at him weakly, tears in his eyes as he wiped them away with his sleeve once again._

_“Th-thank you for your time, sir,” Ethan choked out, swallowing thickly as he stood up from his chair. He reached for his backpack, his breath shaking, that familiar churning in his stomach. He felt as if he was going to throw up…the young brunette felt_ beyond _sick, part of his heart chipping away. The young man slung his backpack over his shoulder, turning his head away in humiliation as he walked to the door. He could hear Mr. Jameson clearing his throat from behind him…straightening his papers…_ moving on _from the situation, as if it meant nothing. Ethan’s hand trembled as he opened the door, pushing out into the hallway. There were students everywhere, and there were tears in his eyes, and everyone was looking at him. His bottom lip trembled as he took a sharp left, trying to keep his eyes on the ground. The young man didn’t want anyone seeing him cry. Nevertheless, however, everything hit him like a brick way. His life…was_ ruined _, all in the span of a few minutes. It had managed to all crumble apart, leaving him speechless._

_Ethan let out a choked sob, wiping his eyes furiously with his sleeve. A few students gave him glances, some of them even snickering underneath their breath. As if all of it was_ hilarious _. God, he felt pathetic. He was walking through a seat of students, all of them parting around him and just watching as he passed, tears streaming down the side of his face. Ethan kept his same pace though…it was humiliating, he knew that well enough, but he had stopped caring the second he learned that he was no longer welcomed at his college. He wiped his eyes repeatedly, using his sleeves to hide his face as he continued walking. The only thing the young man wanted to do was_ disappear _._

∞§—————§∞

Ethan was pulled away from his thoughts from the sound of his phone dinging beside him. He sighed a bit, running his hand through the hair with frustration. God, it was one of those moments where his brain just brought back all of the painfully humiliating moments in his life…and it decided to bring back the worst one. He sighed again, reaching over for his phone at the kitchen table. The young brunette was sitting alone in his kitchen, one of the worst things he could be doing on a Saturday evening. Thankfully, of course, he knew well enough that he would be heading over to Mark’s soon to watch a movie. It was nice. Ethan would usually find himself spending time alone at his apartment, sitting in. The darkness of his bedroom under a pile of blankets, the chords of his earbuds in a tangled mess as he went down the YouTube rabbit hole for the entire night. He knew well enough that so many other people in the city were probably doing something more exciting…going out for dinner, or going clubbing, or just hanging out with friends while getting absolutely trashed. Not Ethan, though. His Saturday nights were just like any other night, except he knew well enough that he got to sleep in the next day…the _highlight_ of the week. It was pathetic, if the young man had to put it plainly, and he didn’t need anyone to convince him otherwise. It had always been like that, though. 

Ethan had been spending nights alone ever since he got kicked out of college. It didn't matter if he was staying up late or going to bed early…every night was as boring and as simple as the last. This was a nice change, though; being able to actually go over to someone’s house and spend most of the night with them…it sounded exciting, even if it was just something as small as watching a children’s movie with a friend and his daughter.It was the little things in life, he supposed, which would eventually stack up. Ethan opened his phone, humming softly as he swiped to the messages application. Ethan smiled softly when he noticed the message from Mark. He leaned back in his chair, tapping on the contact.

> **M:** Are you gonna want popcorn?

Ethan swallowed thickly, shifting slightly in his chair. He supposed it was a pretty standard question, if anything. After all, he supposed he should start getting comfortable eating around Mark, especially considering his situation. It wasn’t like it was the most uncomfortable thing in the world…but Ethan would always be hesitant when it came to eating dinner around him. The young man would always find himself sitting at the table, awkwardly glancing at Charlotte and Mark, wondering how long he could get away with just sipping at his water before the older man would ask if he was going to eat anything, always playing it off by asking if he was feeling alright. The two men didn’t want Charlotte to catch on that he was eating because he didn’t want to…it was always whether or not Ethan had a ‘stomachache’ or not. Of course, more often than not, Ethan would take a reluctant bite of food, all while looking down at his plate and wishing he could just disappear off the face of the planet. The fact that Mark wanted to help in the first place, of course, was something that the young brunette couldn’t help but appreciate…it was unlike anything anyone had done for him before. Of course, he supposed that no one else had really known about his…situation before. It was never something that Ethan had really openly admitted to anyone.

Of course, it hadn’t helped that everyone else had seemingly been clueless to the situation. It was like Ethan had wanted them to find out…part a small part of the young man had felt slightly comforted knowing that someone had actually _noticed_ for once; Mark had been able to piece it together…and he really did seem to care about the young man. At least, Ethan liked to think so…in a friendly way, of course. The young man cleared his throat, reluctantly responding.

> **E:** Sure

Ethan pressed send, sucking in a soft breath as he rested his phone down on the table; part of him was surprised that he had actually said yes, without having to be asked several times or pressured into doing so. It made him feel…confident. Like he was actually in control of himself, instead of obsessing over his weird habit and insecurities. He knew it was nothing special to be able to eat a handful of popcorn around his friend, especially considering how it was such a common thing that people did in public…but it felt big for him. For the first time…the young man didn’t feel different. Even if it was only for a few seconds, of course. Just a few seconds of feeling confident with what he was doing. It was oddly comforting. Of course, he to the feeling of dread afterward, wondering if everything was going to be awkward. Actions spoke louder than words, Ethan knew that well enough, and he knew that putting his money where his mouth was would be a different story. Nevertheless, he didn’t shoot a follow-up text insisting that he had changed his mind, and no longer wanted popcorn. No. He grabbed his phone, slipping it into his back pocket before standing up from the kitchen table.

Ethan pulled away carefully, walking over to the door so he could slip on his sneakers. He reached for his flannel jacket from the coat rack, which was really just a flannel shirt that he didn’t button up. Nevertheless, he liked the way it looked. He slipped it on happily, letting out a content sigh. The man had everything he needed. The young man sucked in a soft breath before he opened the door to his apartment, allowing himself to step out into the hallway. Ethan closed the door behind him, readjusting his jacket before walking to the stairwell. He had a slight bounce in his step as he rushed down the stairs, almost stumbling over himself. God, Ethan didn't know why he was so excited. All he was going to do was go to his friend’s house and watch a children’s movie, something he had probably seen something dozens of times when he himself was younger…but it was just the idea of it. The fact that someone else wanted to have him over. Well…he supposed _Charlotte_ was the one who asked him to come over, not Mark…but Ethan didn’t mind. He smiled happily,exiting the apartment complex. The young man took a sharp turn, as always, before he continued walking down the sidewalk.

The young man hummed contently as he walked, his heart thumping steadily as he went. Ethan shoved his hands in his pockets, contently listening to the padding of his sneakers against the concrete…listening to the sounds of the city. It was something that he had just become accustomed to really. It was like how people in the suburbs could find similarity in the sounds of birds chirping early in the morning, wind blowing through the trees or rain pelting against the roof; the sound of a neighbor cutting the grass earlier than they should be, or starting up their car to leave for work. Ethan found comfort in the sounds of cars blaring at each other, and he would often chuckle to himself knowing that the people _inside_ the vehicles were screaming just the same with rage and frustration. The sounds of construction from around the corner…people talking on the phone, or pulling to the edge of the sidewalk to mingle with each other. The familiar bustle whenever he walked past an outdoor cafe, the light sound of dishes being stacked and spoons being rested on the edge of a bowl. Coins dropping, cigarettes being lit, soft laughter filling the air; something that would foreign to tourists was something so common for Ethan and other members of the city, each of them unfazed by the sounds and movement around them. 

Although Ethan had been kicked out of college, he still appreciated the city just as much as before…‘dropping out’ hadn’t quite changed the way he perceived New York City. He still loved it just the same, and he knew well enough that he wouldn’t just… _give up_ on everything because he got kicked out. After all…God, the young man had to lose _so much_ just to get there. Part of him missed the feeling of talking to his parents, he supposed, although it had been quite some time since the last occurrence. Probably not since he told them about how he had been kicked out of college. Ethan hadn’t bothered sugar-coating it by claiming he had simply dropped out. Yes, _technically_ that had been the case, but it was either that or being expelled anyway, and the young man had no intention of lying to his parents. Besides, considering his parents had been paying for his education, telling them that he had dropped out would make him seem beyond selfish, which Ethan liked to believe _wasn’t_ the case. Nevertheless, they had been beyond furious, of course, mixed with frustration and a lack of understanding of _why_ it was hardly his fault in the first place. Yes, it was technically his fault…but God, the young man couldn’t help it. After all, it wasn’t like Ethan had _intentionally_ tried to get his grades to fail.

Nevertheless, his mother and father hadn’t understood. Ethan wasn’t sure if the frustration had just blinded them, or if they were just generally oblivious, but the only thing they had said to him over the phone was how…was how they were _disappointed_ in him. And God, Ethan had wished they had just chewed him out in any other way _besides_ that. It was one of the hardest things he ever had to hear…his parents disappointed in him. A _disappointment_. Ethan had burst into tears on the phone almost immediately, trying to explain how everything had happened and why he wasn’t at fault, but neither of them had listened. All they seemed to say was how they had expected better from him…expected _more_ from them; how that he should have told them sooner, asking why he had tried harder and why he hadn't taken his education seriously, as if Ethan had been purposely looking to get himself kicked out of college. The young brunette had insisted in a fit of tears that he was trying his best, choking out words and hopeful sentences in attempts to get them to listen…but they didn’t. Nothing he had said seemed to reduce the situation, and by the end of the call Ethan had ultimately achieved nothing, apart from the fact that his parents claimed they wouldn’t be covering the bills for any college he went to in the future, which the young man supposed was understandable. But…he hadn’t called them since. Their contacts remained in his phone just the same, but Ethan had never found a time where he was able to swallow his pride and just _call_ them.

Ethan hoped there would be a point in his life where he would be able to forget everything that they said…maybe having the confidence to call them back; just…tell them he loved them. God, Ethan couldn’t remember a time where he had told them that; now, he couldn’t even find it in himself to start a conversation with them, let alone admit that he still _cared_ about them despite everything. It wasn’t in Ethan’s nature to stay mad at someone forever…he couldn’t. No matter how much someone hurt him, or how shitty someone could make him feel…part of Ethan knew that he would always come back groveling either way. It was a blessing and a curse, he supposed; it hadn’t really worked this time around, though. After all, Ethan had gone without his parents for over a year now. He had gone without calling them every weekend, as he had in college, or even being invited to family holidays. God, the first time Ethan had spent Christmas alone…it had been awful. The only thing he had done was sit on his couch in a fit of tears, feeling utterly homesick as he sat in a practically empty apartment. No Christmas tree, no one to spend the time with, no decorations. It had been absolutely awful, and the following year, although Ethan liked to think he was immune to the void feeling of being alone, he still wished he could have someone to spend it with. Ethan missed the feeling of spending Christmas with his family…sitting on the couch and watching holiday movies with them, drowning in festive blankets and just being content with everything around him. 

One day, he liked to think that he would be able to spend Christmas with someone…particularly his family. Being able to go home…being able to just say sorry for everything had happened, hoping they would finally understand; hoping they weren’t still disappointed in him. Ethan supposed they must have been, since they obviously hadn’t attempted to reach out to him either. The young man pushed the thoughts away. The last thing he wanted to think about was the possibility that his parents didn’t care about him anymore. After all, for all the knew…he could have been dead. Ethan hadn’t reached out to him ever since the phone call, not even once. He shuddered at the thought, continuing to walk down the sidewalk. Ethan didn’t like thinking about his past often, so he didn’t know why he was doing it. He liked to think that he was starting a fresh slate with his new job, and he didn’t want to think about anything else. Not getting kicked out of college, or losing connection with his family, or getting relentlessly fired from almost any job he managed to find. He sucked in a soft breath, crossing the sidewalk after he had glanced both ways. He hummed softly, his heart lifting in his chest. Ethan let out a content sigh, pulling open the door to the apartment complex before slipping inside. The young man didn’t waste a beat, walking over to the elevators.

Ethan sighed reluctantly, pressing the button to call the elevator. He pulled his phone out from his back pocket, shooting Mark a quick text that he had finally arrived at the apartment complex, and would most likely be there in a minute. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, humming underneath his breath. The young man waited for a few more seconds, reluctantly stepping into it. Ethan leaned against the wall of the elevator, as always, pressing the button to Mark’s floor. His heart jumped with excitement as the doors closed. He glanced up at the ceiling of the elevator, giving a small smile of bliss. It had been a while since the young man had actually been _this_ happy. Sure, ice skating with Mark had been nice, but he hadn’t quite known the older man that well at the time. It had really only been the second time they had met, so obviously it was littered with several awkward moments. That didn't happen too much anymore, thoughts since they were more familiar with each other. It was comforting, really. Being able to have someone he could text in the middle of the night for absolutely no reason apart from boredom was never something he had done before. The young man would never take it for granted, of course, although he would love to become accustomed to it.

Ethan grinned when the elevator doors opened, practically guiding him into the hallway. He smiled happily as he took a sharp turn, making his way over to Mark’s apartment door down the hall, on the right, as always. Except, this time, he was coming over for a reason _besides_ watching Charlotte, which. was something that didn’t actually happen often. Sure, he had gone over to once to give the older man a hug, but now he was finally going over for an extended period of time while doing something _besides_ watching Mark’s daughter. It was…friendly. It was nice. He would just be able to relax beside his friend while watching a movie he had seen dozens of times before…and he would be content. The young man sucked in an eager breath as he reached his hand over, gently knocking on the door. Ethan smiled to himself, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he stood by the apartment door, humming underneath his breath. He waited patiently, listening as he heard walking on the other side. Soon enough, the door was opening, revealing Mark standing on the other side.

The older man grinned almost immediately when he saw Ethan standing on the other side. The young man looked him up and down quickly, almost taken aback. Sure, he knew well enough that Mark wouldn’t be wearing it suit, but it was seemingly unnatural seeing him in anything else. The man wore a simple pair of black jeans and a floral T-shirt, white socks to match. Mark smiled. “Glad you could make it,” he mentioned thoughtfully. “Charlotte has been talking about how excited she is for this _all day_. Thank God you’re here, honestly, she would have driven me insane if she went on talking about it for another hour.” Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter, watching as Mark stepped aside. “Well, we’re just setting everything up, so you came just in time.” Ethan smiled, stepping in thoughtfully before moving to the side so Make could close the door behind him. The young brunette proceeded to take off his shoes, resting them aside.

“Well, believe me, I’m excited to see what movie Charlotte’s going to pick,” Ethan returned, brushing a hand through his hair before he stood up again. “I don’t really remember the last time I've sat down to watch a movie with a friend. Sure, Charlotte always loves watching movies when I’m over, but you know…I guess it’s different. Plus, the only thing she picks when I’m here is _The Fox and the Hound_. Don't get me wrong, it’s a classic…but it gets a little less classic when we’re watching it basically every day.” Mark let out a chuckle, resting his hands on his hips.

“Every day, huh?”

“You have absolutely no idea,” the young man returned, smiling softly as he glanced around the apartment. He supposed Charlotte was in her room. Ethan paused, giving a half-smile. “Hey, uh, thanks for inviting me over and everything. I know that, you know, it was _Charlotte’s_ idea…but you really didn’t have to ask me. You coulda just… _told her_ you asked, without actually doing it. So, uh…thank you. It’s nice being able to spend a Saturday evening with someone, instead of having to spend it alone in my room.” The young brunette gave a justified nod.

“Eth, we can do this more often if you’d like,” Mark mentioned, shrugging his shoulders as if the thought didn’t bother him. Ethan gave a grateful smile. It was honestly one of the kindest things he had heard all day…knowing that someone _genuinely_ wanted to have him over and hang out with him…it was a wonderful feeling that the young brunette never wanted to let go of. “I mean, believe me, I don’t really get any guests either. I usually just watch TV with Charlotte, read her a story, and then go to bed. Gone are the days of partying and getting absolutely wasted.” Ethan smiled a bit, rolling his eyes playfully. “I mean, not just because I’m a father now. I’m allergic to alcohol. So, you know, those two things sort of go hand in hand with each other.” The young man cocked his eyebrow with surprise. “Yeah, a lot of medical bullshit, yada yada yada, I can’t have any of it. Not that I would feel comfortable drinking it around her anyway.”

“Well, I'm allergic to peanuts,” Ethan explained.

“I guess we both know what it’s like to not be allowed to have something then,” the older man mentioned. Ethan giggled, nodding his head in return. “But what I was saying…don’t worry about it, Eth. I’m not doing this for a pity favor or because Charlotte asked me. You’re an awesome friend, and _obviously_ I want to hang out with you. I mean, come on, I think you’re one of the nicest people I think I’ve ever met.” Ethan gave a watery smile. He didn't think he was _that great_ , not worth mentioning at least. He would accept the compliment nonetheless, of course, sheepishly smiling as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I mean, come on, what better way to spend the evening than getting popcorn stuck in your teeth, growing bored by a Disney movie we’ve probably seen close to a hundred times, one that probably has the same amount of plot as an argument in the subway.” Ethan stifled his laughter, smiling a bit from the comment. “Believe me, I don't really get to watch any other movie besides Disney movies. I guess the days of watching movies with substance and character development are gone too; the walls inside this apartment aren’t the thickest, and I know well enough that Charlotte would be able to hear a word of everything from her bedroom. Not like I really get any time to myself, either. It’s all just improbable.”

“You’ll get there in a few years, buddy,” Ethan joked. “Just think. One day you’ll be able to watch all the movies _you_ wanna watch with her, and gone will be the days of Disney films.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ll savor every second of her enjoying Disney movies while she still has the attention span to sit down and look at the screen, or actually spend _time_ with me,” Mark replied, a half-smile visible on his face. He gave a simple shrug of his shoulders. “I dunno, guess I’ve just been thinking too much about her growing up and everything, recently. I mean, yeah, I heard that it gets easier when they get older…but I don’t mind if everything just stays like this for the time being. You know?” Ethan smiled a bit. He supposed the older man was right…he guessed it was a different perspective on everything. “Anyway, I’m gonna go get Charlotte, okay? I think she’s playing with a few of her stuffed animals. Then, she’ll pick a movie…and hopefully, it’s not _The Fox and the Hound_.” 

“God, I hope,” Ethan joked.

Mark smiled, nodding in return as he walked past him. Ethan glanced over his right shoulder, his gaze lingering on the older man as he made his way down the hallway, slipping carefully into his daughter’s room. The young man sighed contently, his eyes flickering with mere affection before he hesitantly made his way over to the couch. Ethan hummed underneath his breath, lowering himself down onto it before leaning back, letting out a content sigh. The young brunette drummed his fingers lightly against the couch cushion, glancing around the living room with mere interest. He smiled softly when he noticed a stuffed animal propped up carefully in the chair, almost as if it too would be enjoying the movie with them. Well, he hoped the stuffed animal didn’t have any opinions on movies it had already seen before. Ethan hummed, glancing over his left shoulder as soon as he saw Mark and Charlotte coming back. The young girl smiled, waving happily before she practically leaped into the chair, sitting beside her stuffed animals. Ethan chuckled softly. “Hi, Charlotte,” he said softly.

“Hello,” Charlotte returned happily, kicking her feet a bit before she pulled herself off of her chair, rushing over to the TV so she could pick out a movie.

“What movie are you picking out?” Mark questioned curiously, walking over to the kitchen. The young man’s eyes lingered on him again, although he didn’t know why. Nevertheless, he watched as the man reached into the cupboard, pulling out a cardboard box filled with packets of microwavable popcorn. Ethan swallowed thickly, drawing his attention away again before he fixed it on the young girl as well. It wasn’t that big of a deal, he reminded himself. After all, it was just _popcorn_. They were small, practically nothing. Mark wasn’t going to give two shits, and he obviously wasn’t going to judge the young brunette for eating any. _No one_ was going to judge him for eating, God; if only the young man could wrap his head around that. He knew it well enough, and he always tried to remind himself, but part of him just seemed so detached from the concept. In Ethan’s mind, _everyone_ was watching him eat, and that was what made him so incredibly uncomfortable. He himself didn’t like eating alone in general…let alone someone watching him. Nevertheless, he didn’t bother complaining; that would only be pushing his problems onto Mark, and that would be the last thing that Ethan wanted. So, he kept his mouth shut, shifting on the couch as he waited for Charlotte to respond to her father about the movie.

“The dog one,” Charlotte chirped happily. Ethan cocked his eyebrow slightly. That could mean _several_ things, definitely not excluding _The Fox and the Hound_.

“Is it _The Fox and the Hound?_ ” Ethan suggested weakly, trying to keep his voice positive. He heard Mark let out a soft huff of laughter from the kitchen, closing the microwave door once he had placed the popcorn packet inside. Nevertheless, Charlotte shook her head. The young man straightened up slightly. Well, that was somewhat reassuring. “Uh, _101 Dalmatians_?” The young man offered. Once again, the young girl shook her head, sorting through the movies as she tried to find the one she was looking for. “ _Oliver and Company_?”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte insisted.

Ethan pursed his lips. Disney wasn’t exactly a stranger to dog movies. _Bolt. A Goofy Movie,_ which he supposed counted. _Balto_ was a dog movie, although it wasn’t Disney. Nevertheless, he watched as she sorted through the movies. He supposed she would eventually find it. He hummed softly, smiling a bit when she finally pulled a DVD case from the assortment of Disney movies that were found on the shelf.

“This one,” she announced happily. Charlotte walked over to show Ethan, grinning happily. The young man reached for the DVD case, drawing it close to get a closer look. He smiled softly when he was greeted by a familiar cover, one that hadn’t changed since he was younger. The drawing of two illustrated dogs, a visible sky full of stars in the background, among a series of houses. _Lady and the Tramp_. It was really something that he hadn’t watched in a while. “The dog one,” Charlotte confirmed happily, smiling with approval as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Ethan nodded in return.

“Yup, that’s a good one,” Ethan confirmed, smiling gently as he handed the case back to her. She accepted it happily, smiling as she walked over to her chair. It was obvious she would need to wait for her father to help put the DVD in, since she didn’t know how. The young man relaxed against the couch again, shifting awkwardly. 

“A _classic_ ,” Mark confirmed from the kitchen, shifting on his feet as he turned around, leaning his back against the counter and looking over into the living room. He glanced at Ethan, smiling a bit. “I used to watch it all the time when I was young. I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic myself,” he joked. The older man let out a soft huff of laughter at his own joke, Ethan giving a shy shrug in return. “My brother hated the movie though. Cause, you know, we were both young and every movie that had a female character in it was deemed a ‘girly movie’.” Mark gave a playful scoff. The young man gave a sheepish smile, his eyes flickering slightly, almost with confusion. Mark was oddly…charming? He supposed? The young man cleared his throat, hesitantly glancing away. God, his heart was beating fast. That’s what the anxiousness of not wanting to eat did to him, he supposed.

“Do you want to share a bowl?” Mark continued gently, as soon as the microwave had finally beeped. The young man glanced up from his hands, redirecting his attention to the older man. “Or, would you rather you have your own bowl?”

“Uh, share a bowl,” Ethan returned. “Please,” he added, a gentle smile spread across his lips. The young man supposed that sharing a bowl took less attention away to how much he was eating, if he was eating anything at all; instead of having a set amount, to begin with, he wouldn’t feel bad if he didn’t eat as much. Mark nodded in understanding, smiling a bit more as the young man added ‘please’. He turned around again, facing the counter and getting two bowls, the smaller one most likely being for his daughter. Ethan watched him carefully, only pulling his gaze away when the older man turned around again. The young man looked down at his hands, clearing his throat. He glanced at Charlotte, smiling at the young girl giggled with excitement as her father handed her the small bowl. Ethan glanced at Mark, shifting to make room on the couch. The older man rested the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, picking up the DVD case before walking to the TV. “Charlotte, I didn’t know your daddy was an electronic wiz,” the man joked.

Mark scoffed playfully, and Ethan could almost see him rolling his eyes, even though he was turned around. “It’s not rocket science to know how to put in a DVD,” he returned jokingly. “I mean, you do it too.” Ethan gave a playful shrug, a smug smile on his face as he leaned back against the couch. He watched as Mark proceeded to set the movie up, standing up and resting his hands on his hips. The older man turned around, grinning proudly. “Did it.”

“It’s not rocket science to know how to put in a DVD,” Ethan repeated, trying not to smile as Mark rolled his eyes again. The young man giggled softly, watching as the older man walked back over to the couch, falling back beside him. Mark reached for the popcorn bowl, resting it on his lap before tilting the bowl slightly over toward the young brunette. Ethan looked at it shyly, swallowing thickly as he looked from the older man to the bowl again. After a few seconds, the young man reluctantly reached his hand over, taking a piece of popcorn. Just a piece, nothing more, he reminded himself. Ethan sucked in a soft breath before reluctantly eating it, watching as Mark reached for the commercial. The older man glanced back at him, giving a watery smile when he realized Ethan had taken some without actually being asked. The young man looked down at his hands shyly, swallowing before glancing up at Mark again. The man was smiling proudly. “It’s not rocket science to eat food, either…” Ethan whispered, a weak smile as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, well, it’s a start,” Mark reminded him, grinning a bit more. “I was watching the entire time, and you didn’t even mind. That’s good. That’s a start.”

“You think so?” Ethan questioned. 

“I know so,” Mark replied. He leaned forward, reaching for the remote from the coffee table. He leaned back against the couch again, sighing contently as he turned on the TV. The young man smiled a bit, leaning back against the couch again. The brunette supposed Mark _had_ watched him…and Ethan didn’t even mind. The part of them that was always bothered by it just…turned off. It was only for a few seconds, yes, but those few seconds had been the most carefree seconds in the past year. Just being able to sit on the couch with his friend, eating a piece of popcorn without worrying, and then getting praised like it was worthy of a Nobel prize. Ethan reached for another piece of popcorn, this time turning his head slightly while he ate it, because he supposed that part of him just couldn’t be controlled quite yet…but, nevertheless, he ate it, and Mark was right. That was a start. That was _something_. The young man redirected his attention to the screen again, smiling happily when the movie started. He hadn’t seen it in quite some time, he had to admit, so he was looking forward to rewatching all of the moments that had been lost in the back of his brain. The only thing Ethan could really _recall_ from the movie was the ever-so-iconic spaghetti eating scene, which wasn’t really even until past _halfway_ through the film. Everything else was really a mystery for him, which was exciting nonetheless.

Ethan glanced at Mark as he took a handful of popcorn, eating it slowly as his eyes were glued to the screen. God, to have the _confidence_ like that; the ability to _know_ someone else was in the room, and to _know_ that they could see him out the corner of their eye…and eating anyway. Like it was no big deal…because they _knew_ no one was judging them; because they knew that it was completely normal to take a handful of popcorn without being judged. It was basic human nature to not be ashamed of _eating_ in front of other people…Ethan wished he could be like that. He wished he could eat popcorn without turning his head, or without getting uncomfortable that someone else would be judging how much he ate, or why he was eating, or God forbid _what_ he was eating. It was just his subconscious, always in the back of his mind and chewing away at the common sense portion of him that knew well enough that nobody cared. Of course, his common sense was seemingly lost in a sea of insecurities and self-deprecation, to the point where he wasn’t even sure if any of it could be fixed…at least, not until Mark came along. Not until Mark _actually_ wanted to help him. 

Ethan glanced back to the screen, scooting slightly closer to the older man so he could discreetly get another piece of popcorn, without having to reach his arm over; that would be entirely more noticeable. After all, it wasn’t like the popcorn tasted _bad_. It was great…part of the young man just felt self-conscious eating it, to the point where he always managed to convince himself that it wasn’t even that good, and that he really didn’t _want_ to eat it. Ethan hated that part of himself; the part of him that seemed to overthink everything, as well as the outcome, to the point where he stopped himself from doing anything remotely exciting. It was the same part of him that had practically forbidden himself to go to playgrounds when he was in high school, in fear that people would _make fun of him_ for it. Like that would actually happen. If anything, other students would consider it funny, and would want to join. The young man chewed his popcorn slowly, not drawing attention to himself. He giggled a bit as he watched the movie. The overdramatic animation style was simply adorable.

“This is nice,” Ethan whispered, taking another piece of popcorn. Mark glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, smiling a little in return. The young man chewed shyly, keeping his eyes on the screen before letting out a yawn.

“Are you tired already?” Mark chuckled softly, glancing over at the young man. Ethan gave a sheepish shrug in return. It wasn’t even that late, and he knew that well enough, but part of him just felt like falling asleep. The older man rolled his eyes playfully, scooting a bit closer to the young brunette before wrapping his arm around his shoulder. Ethan’s eyes widened slightly, his body tensing up against Mark’s touch before he carefully relaxed against him. He gave an awkward smile in return before eventually resting his head gently against Mark’s shoulder. The older man let out a huff of laughter. “I’ll wake you up when the movie’s over, Eth.”

Ethan scoffed playfully in return, allowing himself to completely relax against the older man’s touch. He felt… _safe_. It was hard to explain how he felt, but he felt complete. It was weird, Ethan knew that well enough…but a good kind of weird. The young man didn’t mind the feeling, that was for sure. And, for once, his mind wasn’t drifting to all of the ways he had fucked up when he was younger…when his parents stopped keeping in touch with him, or when he was fired from a series of occupations, or what he was kicked out of college. No, none of that was there at the moment. All Ethan could think about how he was sitting on his friend’s couch on a Saturday evening, relaxing into his arms and feeling like he had a purpose for once…he did have a purpose. The young man was helping Mark watch Charlotte and take care of her…that was his purpose. The man smiled a bit, his eyes watering happily as he let out a content sigh. 

Mark glanced down at him. “You okay, Eth?” 

“Yeah,” Ethan whispered, closing his eyes. “I was in a pretty shitty mood earlier…but I’m feeling a bit better.” The older man let out a soft huff of laughter in return.

“Popcorn’ll do that,” he joked.

“Yeah…” the young man murmured, a visible smile on his face, a blush against his cheeks as Mark glanced to the screen. “Popcorn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this chapter! I really enjoyed focusing a bit more on Ethan’s backstory, cause I feel like recently everything has been focused on Mark’s past relationship with Kaitlyn. Don’t ket me wrong, though, I absolutely *adore* writing flashbacks for Mark. They’re honestly so exciting, and I love the dynamic I’ve been creating (sorry if that sounds narcissistic, I’m just genuinely happy with what I’ve created so far, lol)  
> Having an intricate backstory that slowly unfolds and is revealed to the reader through a fanfiction is something I’ve never really done before, so I can only hope that I’m doing an okay job.
> 
> I’m planning on the next chapter being a little bit shorter, so I hope that’s alright with you guys. Just a short series of flashbacks for Mark (I honestly can’t stay away from those italics, lol) to add a bit more to the backstory with what has been revealed already.  
> Also, obviously there was a little bit of a moodshift in this chapter. Were feelings caught? *Slightly*, I would say that Ethan caught a lil bit of feelings while watching the movie. I mean, who can blame them, Lady and the Tramp is a better love story than Twilight.
> 
> Anyway, thank you guys for the support. I don’t know if I’ve thanked you guys for 7000 hits, maybe, I’m too lazy to check; so…thank you guys so much for 7000 hits, lol. I genuinely didn’t think I would make it this far, and it still shocks me that people are still leaving Kudos. I didn’t think Baby of Mine would get this much attention while I was writing it, since Fifty Feet in the Air wasn’t the *most* popular fic, to say the least. It really only started gaining popularity in the last five chapters, so having Baby of Mine be popular from the start was a really new experience for me. Reaching 1000 hits 6 chapters in was awesome, considering it took 15 chapters for Fifty Feet in the Air (yikes on my part)
> 
> And again, I hope you guys don’t mind this slow burn. Like, I was not joking when I put slowburn in the tagging for this, lol. I know this is, and probably will, annoy some readers, but this is just how I decided to write it, lol. I wanted to include more than just romance. I wanted to include the heartbreak and betrayal of past relationships, the dread of failures, learning to fix broken pasts and habits by confiding in someone, and above all, just a father’s love for his daughter. It’s more than romance. It’s more than the hugging, and the kissing, and the loving gazes. The subplots, in my opinion, build up the fic, and I can only hope that you guys think the same. Baby of Mine wouldn’t be what it is right now if it were just the storyline of how they fell in love and nothing more. No flashbacks, no struggles of an eating disorder, no hope for Mark’s promotion.
> 
> I love Baby of Mine very very much, and I love writing it. I spent a lot of time plotting out this fic prior, picking and choosing what subplots I was going to use. There are several subplots that got put on the chopping block to appeal for the overall arch of the story, as well as the readers, but I don’t regret not using them. Some of these subplots were actually pretty depressing, and I didn’t want to include them. I do, however, think that I might add another subplot later on in the story, just a lil something to spice things up.
> 
> Anyway, thank you guys for all the support on Baby of Mine. As I said, 7000 hits is AWESOME, and I can’t thank you enough. Through kudos, comments, bookmarks, hits, and fanart, you guys have been absolutely amazing. 
> 
> Kudos + Comments are always appreciated
> 
> I hope you all are doing well,  
> Thank you,  
> Simply
> 
> [P.S.]  
> The work for the Hunger Game AU fic is doing well. Part of me is conflicted about it, because as much as I love it to death, I’m afraid you guys won’t like it as much because it is VERY drama driven, with only romantic undertones. It’s really a story of The Hunger Games more than it is a romance between Ethan and Mark, although that does help drive the plot and will be displayed and mentioned throughout the story. I promise you though that I won’t be doing fics like this often, and that it will probably be on the shorter side anyway, not as spread out as Baby of Mine is.  
> Someone suggested that I write multiple fics at the same time, but the problem with me is that I’m *constantly* itching to write something new, and being tied down to something is hard if I try to do two things at once.  
> Thankfully, however, Baby of Mine is the only thing on my mind when it comes to fics, and knowing that I’ll have to write an Epilogue for it eventually breaks my heart because I just…I LOVE WRITING THIS SO MUCH. I know I probably sound like a narcissistic piece of shit, lmfao, but I absolutely adore how everything is playing out because it’s *exactly* how I envisioned it would while it was nothing more than a few notes on a slip of paper in my Fanfiction Plotting Journal.  
> 


	23. Baby of Ours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so…I did a thing  
> It’s another flashback chapter  
> AHH  
> I know, I know, I know. A few of you guys don’t like flashback chapters, but I just couldn’t help myself! They’re so fun to write! I promise promise PROMISE that there will be more Mark x Ethan interaction coming up soon.  
> Also, I know I said this chapter was going to be short, but I got a little bit carried away. I hope you guys don’t mind, but I also hope you guys won’t expect consistency with chapter length, because they’re honestly all over the place.  
> Okay, enough of me.  
> I hope you enjoy the chapter! I know you probably think I’m intentionally dragging it out, but I swear I’m not, lol
> 
> Also...I cried a little bit writing the chapter. I promise, I'm not a sadist, but I just hAD TO.
> 
> Also...thank you guys so much for 8000 hits. Only last chapter, or maybe the chapter before that, I was thanking you guys for 7000. It makes me really happy that you guys love this fic, and I can't thank you enough for all the support. 8000 is a really big number, and I'm beyond thankful to have found a place in this community where people appreciate what I do
> 
> (Okay, one more also)  
> Baby of Mine officially holds the highest word count for this fandom....yay. Lol. I don't know, just thought I would add it. I didn't think I would be writing this much for it, but I simply adore this fic. I'm not going to leave ANYTHING out.

_Mark let out a huff of frustration as he fell back on the couch, running a hand through his hair. He knew it was selfish enough to be frustrated with his girlfriend…he shouldn’t have been arguing with her in the first place. Kaitlyn was pregnant, for God’s sake. Not like it was an excuse for them to not get into altercations…but he knew well enough that he had to start controlling his temper, and he assumed that came with being more considerate and open to her suggestions…even if they didn’t even make any sense. Nevertheless, Kaitlyn was upset with him again, and he was equally upset with her. He didn’t know_ why _they were upset with each other, or how it had all even started, but during the past few months, they had only managed to get on each other’s nerves. Sure, at the end of the day they would always end up sleeping in the same bed, holding each other and breathing contently…but during the day? Well, arguments hadn’t been exactly swept off the table, to say the least. Mark knew he had to start biting his tongue a bit more. He knew that arguing about it wouldn’t make a difference anymore, especially considering how far along she was. An abortion was off the table, Mark knew that well enough._

_Mark wouldn’t dare mention it again, though…he had really stopped asking about two weeks after he had learned she was pregnant. He knew it was a selfish thing to suggest, especially considering how Kaitlyn had insisted it was the last thing she wanted…God, part of him regretted asking in the first place. It wasn’t his place to ask…it had_ never _been his place to ask. That didn’t mean he would be more open to the idea of being a father, of course. Mark…well, he still didn’t want to be a father. He didn’t know if it was a feeling that would soon overtake him during the final month of Kaitlyn’s pregnancy, or as soon as Charlotte was born, but part of him was just praying it would come. The urge to actually_ want _to take care of a child. That wasn’t something that the young man could just…_ force _. Mark couldn’t force the ability to care, or the ability to nurture, or the ability to_ want _to love a child the same way his parents had loved him. That was never something Mark thought he would have to think about; not for a while, at least. It wasn’t that Mark had_ never _wanted to have kids. Sure, he had thought about the idea…but it was much harder to wrap his head around when it was being forced on him._

_The young man knew well enough that he wasn’t fit to be a father. If his first statement after Kaitlyn announced she was pregnant was that they needed to get rid of it…he knew he would never be a good father, as depressing of a statement it was. He_ wished _he could…he really did. It wasn’t like Mark hated the idea of having a daughter because he knew he didn’t want one…sure, it wasn’t the most prominent thing on this mind, but he had never been opposed to the idea. No…he didn’t want a child because he didn’t think he could_ be _a father. It was more than just a title, and Mark knew that well enough. The young man knew that it meant having to work harder to provide for a larger family…it meant having to be a good influence, and to learn how to teach a child good morals. It was a learning process for practically everyone, one that Mark didn’t know he was ready for. The leap he was taking was astronomical…he didn’t even feel remotely prepared. One day, he wouldn’t be a father, and the next day he would be tossed into parenthood. Kaitlyn hadn’t reached her ninth month of pregnancy yet, so he supposed he could count his blessings as he held his breath,_ hoping _that one part of him would feel a fatherly urge before his daughter was born._

_Mark hadn’t even_ bothered _thinking of a name yet…how pathetic was that? Despite having a child on the way, he had seemingly put almost no thought into what the upbringing of his daughter would be like once she was born. Sure, they had started decorating and furnishing the spare room in the apartment, which was now fit for a little girl…but Mark hadn’t spared a second thought into the process. He didn’t know what he could possibly name her…part of him wasn’t sure if he even knew how to_ hold _a baby. Kaitlyn had incited that it was almost human instinct on how to hold a child, and that he would learn well enough when he got to hold their daughter for the first time…but part of him wasn’t so sure. Part of him feared that he would drop her, or neglect her, or be so fearful of doing something wrong that he wouldn’t be a significant part of her life. That was something Mark feared the most. He_ wanted _to be a good father…he wanted to be there for his future daughter, but he knew that wouldn’t be the case if he was stumbling over his thoughts, not having a single clue on what he was supposed to be doing. Mark supposed it had something to do with it being an unplanned pregnancy, which was why he was so naive to everything going on._

_Kaitlyn always insisted, of course, that he was going to be a wonderful father. Simple words of encouragement, though, certainly wouldn’t be enough to actually convince him. The young man only assumed that his girlfriend was doing it because she wanted him to stay throughout the entire pregnancy…because she didn’t want to be alone. Mark had assured her from the beginning, of course, that he had no intention of leaving her alone. The man knew well enough that he would never have the mental capacity to leave someone who was_ pregnant _on her own. It would be seemingly unfair, of course. After all, he supposed it took two to tango, and this was both of their faults. Mark let out another sigh. God, he had to get out of that mindset. Referring to the entire ordeal as an ‘accident’…claiming it was their ‘fault’. It wasn’t a mindset any father should have, he knew that well enough. Parents were supposed to consider their children blessings…they were supposed to be on the edge of their seat with excitement throughout the entire pregnancy, filled with joy at the thought of soon being able to hold them in their arms. To coo to them, and sing to them, and read to them. To enjoy the blissful days of fresh parenthood, feeling completely in love…a_ new _kind of love that they had never experienced before. Mark_ wanted _to believe that he would feel the same, but he still wasn’t completely sure._

_Kaitlyn, of course, was seemingly the model of a perfect future parent. He would notice how she brought up their future daughter in nearly every conversation they shared, insisting that they should buy more stuffed animals to decorate the nursery with. All she could think of was what color they would paint it in the near future, or how many photo albums they would be able to fill with pictures of their daughter. Mark would listen to them nevertheless, of course, even if he shared almost little interest in the discussion. God, why couldn’t he just_ be a good father _? He knew that it didn’t even take that much. All that he needed was the_ mentality _. To have the same shared excitement with his girlfriend. Perfect future parents were supposed to sit down together, sharing mutual exhilaration from just being able to talk about possible baby names, or all of the stories they were going to read to them, or the songs they were going to sing, or possibly suggesting what their first_ word _would be, even though it wouldn’t be for a while. Why couldn’t_ he _have that? Part of him felt like he was depriving Kaitlyn of a non-stressful pregnancy. Sometimes he didn’t even want to_ mention _how they were having a daughter, because he felt an upcoming anxiety attack lingering when he simply_ remembered. _Kaitlyn shouldn’t have to be worrying about his behavior…it was selfish of him, yes, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe he would be able to be a good father…maybe he would be able to pass the low expectations he had set for himself._

_But what if he wasn’t? That_ what-if _was the thing that haunted him throughout the entire pregnancy. What would happen? Would his daughter not want to be near him, and would only manage to confide in her mother? At that point, the young man wouldn’t even be surprised if his future daughter wanted nothing to do with him. Mark didn’t know if he would want anything to do with_ her _when she was born, in the sense that he would be willing to make himself so vulnerable for the sake of a child. It was at moments like these where the young man_ really _thought about his father…wishing the man could be around so he could turn to him for guidance. Ask what he was supposed to do, or how he was supposed to feel, or how he was supposed to_ act _. All Mark wanted to do was be a good father…it was something that seemed so simple at first thought…but it wasn’t…and the young man had absolutely no one to turn to…no_ advice _to receive. At some point, it had to be instinctive, right? Surely caring for a child was just a father’s instinct. God, the man hoped so._

_Kaitlyn had accepted the fact that she was pregnant the day she had discovered it…the day she had taken her pregnancy test after not getting her period for two weeks. It was information that had hit Mark like a brick wall, of course…for a few seconds, he was just in such a state of shock. Kaitlyn? Pregnant? It didn’t make sense, especially considering how she had claimed to be on birth control; even then, they had never taken the risk…they had_ always _used condoms. Nevertheless, Kaitlyn had emerged from the bathroom with a positive pregnancy test held loosely in her hand, the box in the other to prove that they_ were _indeed real, and not some twisted prank instead. Her expression had been blank, to the point where Mark himself didn’t know if this was supposed to be good news or bad news. When he heard the news…he was speechless. The young man’s mouth had opened and closed as he attempted to find something to say. And, of course, the first question out of his lips was whether or not they were keeping it. Kaitlyn had, of course, snapped at him in return, making it appear obvious that he had full intentions of keeping the baby. Whether that was out of personal believes or her genuinely wanting to have a baby, Mark really didn’t know, but he just knew well enough he shouldn’t have given her so much shit about the idea of getting an abortion as he did. It wasn’t his place._

_It had taken Mark almost a full two days to process the information his girlfriend had practically thrown on him…to fully grasp the fact that one way or another, he was going to be a father. In about nine months, he would assume the title of being apparent, and he would have a son or daughter to call his own. But…that wasn’t what Mark thought about. He didn’t think about the wonderful moments he would e able to share with his future child; he didn’t think about being able to see them grow up, or to stand beside their crib as they slept, or to be the leading role model in someone’s life. All Mark could think about was how he_ wasn’t ready _. And that was what he had told Kaitlyn…how he had been on the brink of shouting, insisting that this wasn’t right. That everything was happening too fast, and that neither of them was ready to have a child. He had reminded his girlfriend repeatedly that if the two of them were truly ready, she wouldn’t have needed to go on birth control in the first place._

_Mark looked up from his hands as he heard the sound of his girlfriend huffing. Not with a dramatic sigh as an excuse for not talking, no, but because she was carrying a box. “Babe, you shouldn’t be carrying anything,” he mentioned, giving a sympathetic look as he pulled himself to his feet. Despite arguing with her only a few minutes prior, he wasn’t going to be a petty piece of shit and just watch as his girlfriend went through with carrying a heavy box that he himself could easily carry in the first place. Kaitlyn glanced at him, beginning to open her mouth in protest, but the young man was already standing in front of her, quickly accepting the box from her arms. “Lifting heavy things leads to an increased risk of premature labor,” the man reminded her. Kaitlyn cocked her eyebrow slightly as Mark gestured his head to the couch. Although Google couldn’t tell him how to parent a child…it could sure as hell remind him what the hell pregnant women were and_ weren’t _supposed to do. One of the things on the seemingly endless list of hat they_ shouldn’t _do…was carrying heavy objects. Boxes were obviously no exception, of course, and an argument wasn’t going to stop Mark from helping his girlfriend. After all, an altercation wouldn’t cause him to just_ stop _caring about her. “I hope you weren’t trying to prove something,” he mentioned thoughtfully, referring back to the argument they had shared._

_“Surprisingly, not everything I do is with hopes of receiving your attention,” Kaitlyn returned simply, her voice somewhat sardonic, although she gave an apologetic sigh afterward. Mark supposed he had deserved that one. Mark rested the box down on the coffee table, not yet checking the contents as he rested his hands on his hips, watching as his girlfriend fell back onto the couch, exhaling with exhaustion. “I’m perfectly capable of handling things on my own, though, Mark. I know you’re just looking out for me, but it's not like I’m lifting weights every other day. You don’t have to worry about me so much.” His girlfriend gave a faint smile._

_“I just want you and the baby to be healthy,” Mark reminded her, shrugging his shoulders in return before shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “You could have easily asked me to get that for you.”_

_“Well, I didn’t,” Kaitlyn replied._

_“But you should have,” Mark insisted, walking over to sit down in the chair. His girlfriend rolled her eyes, glancing away from him for a few seconds. “Katy, just because I don’t think I can be a father…it doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try to protect you two whenever I can. I know, you probably think I’m just being over-protective, and I probably am…but I just want everything to go okay. I don’t want us to have to worry about anything, and I especially don’t want_ you _to worry about anything. That’s the last thing you need right now…being stressed? I mean, if you want me to lay off a bit more, all you have to do is ask…but we’re nearing the end of your pregnancy and all. Things are getting…_ serious _.” Kaitlyn let out a soft huff of laughter in return from his words. “I’m serious, Katy,” he continued. “I mean, think about it, what if you tripped on something because you weren’t able to see where you were walking when you carried that? What if…I don’t know, that seems pretty bad. I want everything to be okay, so you gotta_ promise _me that you’re not gonna try to play Superman in this situation, and you’re gonna let me take care of you for this last month. Okay?”_

_Kaitlyn smiled gently. “For someone who insists that they’re going to be a horrible father, you sure do seem to care about the baby,” she whispered, a sweet gaze flickering in her eyes. Mark gave a shy grin in return, shrugging his shoulders. “You know, I’ve said this a lot…but I don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about anything. It’s all instinct, babe. Wanting to take care of the baby before she’s born…I think that’s a good sign that you’re going to be a_ wonderful _father.” Mark simply shrugged in return, not knowing what to say. It was reassuring, to say the least. “Why you would think otherwise is beyond me, Mark. You’re a sweetheart…you’re obviously gonna be an amazing dad, and our daughter is going to_ adore you _.” Mark shifted happily on his chair, not knowing hat he was supposed to say._

_“Do you really mean it?” He questioned softly, his voice littered with doubt. “I mean…I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”_

_“Neither do I,” Kaitlyn reminded him. The young man gave a half nod. He supposed she was correct. “You put me up on a pedestal as if I’ve_ done this before _.” She chuckled softly, tossing her hair over her shoulder before she smiled. “Mark, I’ve never been_ pregnant _before. I don’t…I don’t know the first_ thing _about being a mother. I still haven’t told my mom about any of this, I haven’t…I haven’t_ asked her _for any advice. I’m going in just as blind as you are…but it’s okay, because we can do it together. The only reason you_ see me _as the perfect mother…is because I’m not scared of it. You have to_ accept _it to understand it, Markie. It’s a mentality, really. I already feel like a parent, and our daughter hasn’t even been born yet. If you can love an unborn child enough to care for it…you’re destined to be a wonderful parent.”_

_“I hope so…” Mark breathed out, a shrug of his shoulders following. “Don’t get me wrong…I_ want _a kid…I just don’t know if I’ll be able to love her properly and all. Is it…is it instinct?”_

_“I would assume so,” Kaitlyn mentioned, smiling a bit. “I mean, think about it. My parents loved me effortlessly from the second I was born, and from what I’ve heard…you’ve done the same. They loved me before I could speak…before I really had a personality except for screeching, shitting, and complaining.” Mark let out a soft huff of laughter, a playful shake of his head following. God, he absolutely adored his girlfriend. “I think we’re gonna love her the second we see her. It’s a lot of pressure, I guess. I mean, for_ me _especially.” Mark smiled, nodding his head in understanding. He assumed just as much._

_“Yeah…” Mark breathed out, nodding his head as he leaned back in his chair. “I think you’re more ready than I am though…I mean, you’re…you know…_ carrying her _.” He gave a weak smile. “You’ve already got a bigger connection with our daughter than I could ever dream of having. I mean, it’s expected…Google keeps telling me that children are most likely to have a stronger relationship with their mother, especially considering the percentage of mothers that stay at home. I guess that includes you, huh?” Kaitlyn gave a half-smile, thinking for a few seconds before reluctantly nodding her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve heard that fathers have just as much of an influence in their child’s life…but I guess it’s just harder, you know? I mean, you’ve already got a head start.”_

_Kaitlyn smiled a bit, shifting on the couch. “Well, there was something that got me thinking earlier,” she mentioned, biting her lip before she gestured her head over to the cardboard box on the coffee table, the one that Mark had yet to check the contents of. “I heard somewhere online that babies in the womb have the ability to hear their parents after a few months or so…I heard that they’re even able to recognize their parents’ voices once they’re born.” Mark cocked his eyebrow slightly, not quite believing it. “Well, even if it’s a ‘myth’, Meghan told me the same thing happened with her and Keith.” Mark resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Those were another two of the only things he had heard throughout her pregnancy: Meghan and Keith, the married couple Kaitlyn was friends with. The young man wouldn’t consider them_ his _friends, though, considering he had never really shared any classes with them in college. That and the fact that he considered them to be obnoxiously perfect, to the point where it was almost sickening to think about. According to Kaitlyn, they had shared the perfect wedding, lived in the perfect stereotypical house in the suburbs…the one that had the white picket fence and the tire swing in the front yard, all paired with two children of their own, since they had kids young. According to Kaitlyn, the couple had claimed they wanted their children to see them in their prime…whatever that meant._

_“Meghan claimed that their little boy smiled the_ second _they first spoke to him once he was born,” Kaitlyn explained, shifting slightly on the couch. “He_ recognized _their voice, Mark, and I suppose that’s just good of a reason as any, wouldn’t you think?” Mark shrugged his shoulders. He supposed it was something he would have to Google later._

_“I mean, maybe the baby smiled because it’s easier to smile than it is to frown,” Mark explained._

_Kaitlyn frowned a bit. “Well, you’re awfully reassuring,” she returned sardonically, shifting over to reach for the cardboard box. The young man allowed her to lift the box from the coffee table to the cushion of the couch beside her, but only because it was a swift action. Mark remained silent. God, this was the reason he and his girlfriend argued all the time…sometimes he just didn’t know when to tie his tongue and simply say nothing. Nevertheless, the young man sat there, allowing his girlfriend to reach carefully into the cardboard box. Mark watched with curiosity as the young woman pulled out one of the picture books the two of them had purchased a few weeks ago, in anticipation of getting everything ready before Kaitlyn’s ninth month of pregnancy. The young man remained silent, watching as she looked up from her hands, a half-smile spread across her face. “I was…I was actually hoping you would read to her,” his girlfriend mentioned, resting a hand on her stomach before extending her arm, the picture book still in hand. Mark leaned over carefully, accepting the book before looking down at it._ Goodnight Moon _. Mark shifted on his chair, glancing up at his girlfriend again._

_“Think of it as practice for when you get to read to her after she’s born…” Kaitlyn assured him, a gentle smile spread across her face. “I…I just thought that maybe it would be something you would like to do. I would love for her to be able to hear your voice…for her to be able to recognize you.” Kaitlyn tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, looking down at her stomach lovingly. The young woman shrugged her shoulders, the same thoughtful smile as before. Mark swallowed thickly, looking down at the book. “I…I would like for her to be able to hear you reading to her…instead of worrying or shouting.” Mark gave a weak expression. “Please?”_

_“You…want me to…read to your_ stomach _?” Mark questioned. Kaitlyn frowned a bit._

_“I want you to read to your_ daughter _,” his girlfriend corrected, her voice serious as she shifted. “I know, I know…it sounds stupid. Maybe you’re right, maybe this is all stupid, but…I want her to recognize your voice, Mark. Don’t you want her to recognize you?” Mark swallowed thickly, hesitantly nodding his head. “_ I _want her to recognize your voice…I want her to think of you as the best father in the whole world, because they’re what you’re going to be.”_

_Mark gave a weak smile in return. He held the book loosely in his hand, standing up from his chair to walk over to the couch. Kaitlyn shifted, making room for him and giving a watery smile. The young man sat down beside his girlfriend, feeling her press gently against his side. Mark kissed her cheek before he looked down at the book. “Well, future daughter,” he announced playfully, keeping his eyes down on the page, “I hope you don’t mind the selection of_ Goodnight Moon _.”_

_“I’m sure she doesn’t,” Kaitlyn returned jokingly._

_“Well, you never know,” the man reminded his girlfriend gently, a playful smile visible on his face as he carefully turned the page. “I read this when I was younger, you know,” he announced, not sure if he was talking to his girlfriend or to his future daughter at this point. “This book has been around forever.” Kaitlyn giggled softly, pressing a gentle kiss against her boyfriend’s cheek. Mark blushed slightly, letting out a soft huff of laughter before clearing his throat. He hummed softly, taking a pause before he looked down at the first page. “In the great green room, there was a telephone. And a red balloon. And a picture of the cow jumping over the moon.” He smiled softly, running his fingertips over the pages that had once been so familiar to him when he was a child. “They really haven’t changed a thing since I was younger,” he explained, as if his daughter would be able to understand him. “The drawings are all the same…the words haven't been changed or anything. It’s oddly…nostalgic.”_

_Kaitlyn smiled. “Will you always stop in the middle of readings stories to share your life anecdotes when our daughter is born?” She joked. “Or just now because you know you can get away with it?”_

_“You know me so well,” Mark returned lovingly, a soft giggle escaping his lips before he continued reading. “And there were three little bears sitting on chairs. And two little kittens. And a pair of mittens.” Kaitlyn closed her eyes as she gently rested the temple of her forehead on Mark’s shoulder, a content sigh following. Mark smiled. “You know, bedtime stories are only for_ kids _,” he mentioned._

_“Shush,” Kaitlyn joked._

_“If you wanted me to read you a bedtime story, all you had to do was ask,” The young man teased, smiling softly as his girlfriend slapped his shoulder playfully in return. He sighed contently. It was moments like these that Mark appreciated; the moments where he and his girlfriend could just painlessly and effortlessly be themselves. To the young man’s surprise, Kaitlyn being pregnant hadn’t quite changed her personality that much. Sure, sometimes he felt as if they were drifting apart from each other, but it would be through moments like these where he was reminded that everything was alright…that their relationship was fine, and he didn’t have anything to worry about. At first, he had assumed that they wouldn’t be able to make it through the pregnancy as a couple, especially considering how drastic their perspectives on the situation were. However, despite everything…they had pulled through. They were doing alright, without a single complaint, and Mark couldn’t be more content with that fact. If he had had to lose Kaitlyn just because they were having a daughter, or because they didn’t agree on something…Mark didn’t know what he would do with himself. After all, he loved his girlfriend unconditionally. Everything she did made him smile, apart from arguments…the woman just seemed to_ radiate _genuineness. After all, the young woman was the only assurance Mark had that everything was going to be okay. Mark sighed contently at the thought as he continued reading, joking softly with his girlfriend in between pages, all while he commented how he wished their future daughter would be able to see the pictures whilst he read it._

_“She will eventually,” Kaitlyn reminded him. She paused thoughtfully. “Are you gonna read to her like this all the time?” She questioned curiously, smiling at her boyfriend. Mark thought for a few seconds._

_“Well, I suppose I’ll have to,” Mark returned, smiling a bit. The thought of being able to read to a daughter of his own was nice…it was comforting. It made life seem so incredibly simple if he could find joy out of the thought of just being able to read a plotless picture book, just in attempts of making a baby smile or giggle or babble about nothing in particular. “Besides…it sounds like fun.” He gave a half-smile._

_“I knew you would come around to it,” Kaitlyn whispered._

_“It’s not that I don’t_ want _to be a father,” the young man mentioned, pausing as he let out a soft sigh. “I just…as much as you tell me that I’m gonna be a good one, I just don’t think I will be. I mean, you practically_ radiate _perfect parent energy, and I’m_ nothing _like_ you _. I don’t think I’ll know the first thing about looking after a child.”_

_“Well, then you’ll learn,” the young woman returned._

_“I don’t want to have to play a game of trial and error,” Mark sighed, leaning back against the couch with frustration. Kaitlyn sat up slightly, leaning he left elbow against the back couch cushion whilst giving him a look. “I’m serious, babe…I want to be perfect from the start.”_

_“No one’s perfect,” Kaitlyn whispered._

_“Well, I wanna be as close to perfect as I can for her,” Mark breathed out, sucking in a soft breath. “As close to perfect as I can be for_ you _too…but I don’t think I’m anywhere close to that. A man should know how to be a father_ before _they become one. They should know how to take care of kids before they have any of their own; I’ve never even_ been _around a child, Katy. What makes you think that I’m destined to be this amazing father if I’ve never even interacted with a baby? I’ve never even_ held _a baby.”_

_“For starters, how about you get your daughter to recognize your voice in a way besides you getting frustrated with me,” Kaitlyn returned, gesturing her head to the book again. The young man swallowed thickly. God, he was doing it again. He was starting to think that his self-doubt as a whole was the reasoning behind their troubles; he would make self-deprecating comments, she would attempt to defend them, and the entire conversation would just spiral into an argument._

_“You’re right…” Mark whispered, shrugging his shoulders._

_“I know I am,” Kaitlyn mentioned softly, a watery smile visible on her face. “You can’t be the perfect father with that attitude.”_

∞§—————§∞

_“Goodnight room…goodnight moon,” Mark whispered gently, carefully turning the page of the book as he continued reading to his daughter. “Goodnight cow jumping over the moon…goodnight light, and the red balloon. Goodnight bears, goodnight chairs, goodnight kittens, and goodnight mittens.” His voice trailed off as he went on, Charlotte propped carefully in his lap, her fingers in her mouth as she babbled softly in that incoherent language of hers, vaguely referencing the pictures of the story she was being read. Mark couldn’t help but let out a soft huff of laughter, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against the top of her head, receiving nothing but a squeal of delight in return, followed by her clapping her hands a bit, looking up at him. The young man looked down at her just the same, noticing how her eyes widened with curiosity, her gaze filled with wonder. It was the most adorable thing, really; how young children could be amazed by practically everything, even if the thing they were amazed by was painfully simple. The joy of being a. baby, he supposed…being innocent enough to consider every interaction something marvelous, or something that had to be treasured. Mark looked down at Charlotte lovingly, a visible smile on his face as she shifted on his lap before resting her hand on the page, as if to tell him to continue reading._

_“Alright, alright, I won’t keep you waiting,” the young man joked, bouncing her on his knee carefully before he returned his focus down to the book, turning the page. He cleared his throat dramatically before continuing. “Goodnight clocks and goodnight socks. Goodnight little house and goodnight mouse. Goodnight comb and goodnight brush…goodnight nobody, goodnight mush.” Mark smiled a bit as his daughter yawned ever so softly, continuing with a babbling noise. “And goodnight to the old lady whispering ‘hush’. Goodnight stars…goodnight air…good night noises everywhere.” Mark gave a content sigh before reluctantly closing the picture book, not without allowing his daughter to savor the illustrations of the final page. He rested the book beside him on the couch, bouncing her on his knee again before pressing another kiss to her head. “Well, how about it Charlotte? Do you think it’s bedtime?” Charlotte looked up at him, blinking simply before making a gurgling noise. The young man let out a soft huff of laughter in return. God, she was simply adorable; no one could deny that. He smiled down at her, watching as she pointed over to the book again. “Again?” He questioned, giving a playful roll of his eyes. “Honey, you’re gonna be the death of me. You’re not gonna ask for more than one story your entire life, are you?”_

_Charlotte didn’t respond, instead putting her fingers in her mouth again. Mark smiled softly. They really should get her a teething ring. He would have to add it to their shopping list. “Well, how about Daddy reads you that book tomorrow night instead? You would probably get bored of me reading you the same book twice, huh?” He paused, almost as if he expected an answer. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he teased jokingly. Mark carefully shifted his daughter out of his lap, resting her carefully beside him on the couch. “Well, I think that about settles it, kiddo? You ready for bed?”_

_Charlotte took her fingers out of her mouth, babbling a bit before she made grabby hands up to her father for her to be picked up. “Dada,” she announced, gurgling a bit afterward. Mark’s eyes lit up as he glanced over to his daughter, a seemingly foolish smile plastered across his face. The young girl, not really grasping what she had said, continued making grabby hands in an effort for Mark to finally pick her up. The young man sat there for a few seconds, practically amazed before he stood up, scooping his daughter up. His daughter squealed happily._

_“Katy!” Mark announced with excitement from the living room, barely able to contain how thrilled he was as he tried to get the attention of his girlfriend. “Katy! She said her first word! She said her first word!” The young man smiled, glancing back to his daughter and giving a breathless smile, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s right, you said it. Dada. That’s me…” his voice trailed off, his eyes crinkling as he smiled with joy. “Can you say it again?” Mark questioned softly, resting the young girl on his hip as he looked down at her. Charlotte simply blinked up at him in return, her eyes wide before she looked back down at her hands, playing with her fingers and twisting them gently. Mark couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle. “Can you say…dada?” He asked playfully._

_Charlotte babbled a bit, which only led Mark to give a playful roll of his eyes._

_“If you don’t say it again, your mommy isn’t going to believe me,” the young man mentioned. He swayed with her gently, waiting for Kaitlyn to finish her email before she would be able to go to the living room. “I’ll read_ Goodnight Moon _to you again if you say Dada…” Mark whispered softly, kissing the top of her head. Nevertheless, she didn’t say anything. He had heard it well enough the first time, though, so he supposed it was alright. The young man returned over to the couch, sitting down carefully before resting his daughter in his lap. Mark sighed contently. He was glad he had been able to witness it, considering how he was at work for most of the day, leaving his daughter with Kaitlyn. Part of him felt slightly guilty, of course, considering how Charlotte’s first word had been centered around her_ father _, someone who didn’t even take care of her throughout the day. Mark wasn’t the one who held her when she cried, or changed her diaper, or sat down to play with her when she was getting fussy. Sure, he had known that he had his own things to worry about with work and all…but he could have sworn that the young girl’s first word would be ‘Mama’. Nevertheless, he felt a familiar sense of pride…the kind he had felt then the young girl was first born. Of course, Mark found himself feeling that way just by_ looking _at Charlotte._

_“Charlotte, can you say…Dada?” Mark whispered, bouncing her gently on his knee, smiling as she giggled in return. “Dada?” The young man repeated, pursing his lips and waiting a few seconds. Nothing. Well, he supposed that was alright. A first word was more than enough to satisfy him, so he supposed he would be able to live with that for a while. He kissed her cheek gently, humming softly underneath his breath as he waited for his girlfriend. “Maybe you can learn how to say Mama,” Mark mentioned, smiling a bit. “That would make your mommy really happy if you learned how to say that, huh?” Charlotte babbled on a bit, really just a bunch of nonsense, but he listened to her nevertheless. The young man felt beyond happy. This…this was it. This was what having a perfect life was like. Having a girlfriend who loved him, and having a daughter who he loved more than life itself…it was everything that the young man had ever wanted. Being able to wake up next to his girlfriend…kiss the two of them goodbye before heading off to work, being able to return to see his girlfriend and daughter playing on the living room carpet; it was wonderful. It was more than the young man could have ever wished for, and it certainly wasn’t something he had expected when Kaitlyn was pregnant. Mark was beyond grateful for it all, though._

_“What about her first word?” The young man heard someone ask. Mark glanced over his left shoulder, smiling gently when he saw his girlfriend standing there, a similar smile on her face. The young man scooted over, making room on the couch so Kaitlyn could sit down beside him. His girlfriend walked over reluctantly, falling back beside him. “Can’t believe I_ missed it _,” she mentioned in a playfully dramatic voice, smiling a bit at her daughter before looking to Mark. “What was it?” Kaitlyn questioned softly, a half-smile on her face._

_“Dada,” Mark announced proudly, glancing down at his daughter lovingly. Kaitlyn let out a soft huff of laughter. “It’s the truth,” he continued, his voice littered with just as much pride as before as he bounced his daughter carefully on his knee, a gentle smile spread across his face. “Can you say Dada again, Char?” He questioned. “Can you say Dada?” Charlotte glanced up at him, opening and closing her mouth as she clapped her hands lightly, twisting her fingers gently again. “I guess she doesn’t really understand me,” the young man mentioned softly, glancing at his girlfriend and watching as she let out a huff of laughter in return._

_“Sometimes_ I _don’t even understand you,” Kaitlyn teased._

_Mark rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh yeah?” He hummed. The young woman nodded, giggling softly before she leaned carefully against his shoulder. Mark wrapped his left arm around her carefully, smiling a bit. “I just finished reading_ Goodnight Moon _to her,” he mentioned thoughtfully. “I think we should get her to bed soon. Saying your first word doesn’t grant you any extra time.” Mark smiled gently, shifting Charlotte on his lap._

_“Well, I suppose that’s good,” Kaitlyn mentioned softly, pursing her lips. She reached over, allowing Charlotte to gently wrap her hand around her index finger. “Your daddy and I have to have a little talk,” the young woman mentioned, cooing softly. Mark glanced at her, cocking his eyebrow slightly in return. His girlfriend noticed his confused expression, so she simply chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble…yet.” Mark rolled his eyes playfully, giving his girlfriend a gentle shove. She smiled softly, leaning on her boyfriend again. Charlotte giggled softly, gurgling a bit as she looked up at her father. Kaitlyn let out a soft huff of laughter, smiling gently. “Aww, aren’t you just a cutie,” she cooed softly, giggling softly as Charlotte reached for her finger again. “My little Charlotte…” she whispered, her eyes softening at the sight of her daughter. Mark gazed down at Charlotte lovingly._

_“I’ll tuck her in,” Mark said, glancing at his girlfriend lovingly. Kaitlyn looked back to him, giving a gentle nod of her head and a considerate smile. Charlotte let out another soft yawn, relaxing into his father’s touch. “Aww, you’re tired, aren’t you?” He whispered, chuckling softly and bouncing her gently on her knee for a few more seconds before standing up, holding her in his arms. “Well, let’s get you to bed,” Mark continued, resting her on his hip. She looked up at him, relaxing into his side. Kaitlyn straightened up on the couch, smiling gently, her gaze lingering on her daughter. Mark gave Kaitlyn a loving gaze before he pulled away from the living room, trailing into the hallway. “Alrighty, princess,” the young man mentioned, kissing the top of her head as he walked with her, “it’s time for bed now.I know you probably don’t know what I’m saying…but I think you get it, huh?” Charlotte had her fingers in her mouth again. “We_ really _have to get you a teething ring,” Mark laughed softly._

_The young girl gurgled._

_“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m gonna do it this time, though,” the young man mentioned, almost as if he was talking to her. Mark couldn’t help but smile to himself as he continued walking with her. He carefully carried her to her bedroom. “I’ll add it to the shopping list first thing in the morning, I promise. Or I’ll remember it when your mommy finishes lecturing me.” He grinned, carefully leaning over the grin before he gently rested her down. “There we go,” Mark whispered, noticing how his daughter blinked up at him. “See, you get it. Bedtime.” He hummed softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead before she rolled over onto her side. “Well, whatever makes you happy,” the young man mentioned softly, smiling a bit. Charlotte lifted herself carefully to her hands, rocking back and forth in a crawling position before eventually falling back down onto her stomach. Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. “You’re not gonna be able to start walking for a while bit, honey,” he mentioned. “Not for another few months, at least.”_

_Charlotte rolled onto her back again, her legs kicking slightly._

_Mark smiled, reaching his hand into the crib so the young girl could grab onto his finger. Sure enough, his daughter did, giggling softly. “You wouldn’t be mad at me if I wanted to marry your mommy, would you?” The young man whispered softly, cocking his head gently as he peered down into the crib. “I’m gonna take that as a no,” he continued softly, smiling gently. Mark paused for a bit. His daughter was really the only person he had to tell. “I think I’m gonna marry her,” he whispered softly, his heart fluttering in his chest. “She’s just…well, I bet you already know it. She’s_ perfect _. I’ve never met anyone like her before. I mean, she’s_ perfect. _She’s kind…she loves having a family…she’s_ gorgeous _…” his voice trailed off thoughtfully, a loving sigh escaping his lips. “Your mommy is one of the best people in the world, did you know that?” Charlotte twisted his fingers a bit, giggling underneath her breath. “Cutie…” he whispered._

_“I don’t know the first thing about proposing though,” Mark whispered softly, a half-smile spread across his lips as he looked down at his daughter. “I mean, not like I’m gonna ask_ you _for advice, but…I mean, I’m sure I could figure it out. I just…I love her so much. God, you have no idea.” He sighed contently. The young girl yawned, her eyes opening and closing as she struggled to continue looking up at her father. “I know, I know,” the young man whispered, carefully pulling his hand away so he wouldn’t be bothering her. “You’re tired…I guess I’d better get out there anyway. Apparently your mommy has something to tell me. She says I’m not in trouble…what do you think?” Charlotte blinked simply. Mark stood up carefully, giving a gentle smile before he pulled away from the crib slightly. “Goodnight, honey,” the young man whispered. He turned on his heels gently, walking to the door. He lingered in the doorway for a few seconds, leaning against the frame. After a few seconds, he reluctantly exited his daughter’s bedroom, closing the door behind him. Of course, Mark made sure the nightlight was on, since he knew well enough Charlotte had a fear of the dar. He took a sharp right, walking down the hallway before entering the living room again._

_“I know, I know, I took a while,” Mark mentioned, followed by an apologetic smile before he walked back to the couch. Kaitlyn shifted over, patting the spot of the couch next to her. “Well, what am I in for this time around?” He questioned, cocking his eyebrow slightly as he sat down next to her. Kaitlyn shifted over to him, leaning on his shoulder gently. The young man smiled, gently pressing a kiss against her cheek._

_“I promise, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Kaitlyn giggled, gazing at her boyfriend lovingly before clearing her throat. “I just…I have something important to tell you. Is that so hard to believe?” The young man smiled giving a simple shrug of his shoulders. It wasn’t the first time he had been lectured over something. “Well…as you_ know _, I’ve been emailing back and forth about that whole new job opportunity and everything. You know how I was looking to take the job opportunity and everything?” Mark thought for a few seconds before eventually nodding. He paused, waiting for a few seconds. “I…I got the job.” She gave a weak smile, almost as she looked uncomfortable. Mark glanced to his side for a few seconds, not sure why she was acting like that. After all…that sounded amazing._

_“Is there something wrong with that?” Mark questioned, letting out a soft huff of laughter as he shifted on the couch. Kaitlyn was silent for a few seconds. “That’s…that’s_ wonderful _,” he admitted, a smile spreading across his face as he sat up. “Well, we’ll have to work around it, yeah…we’ll have to find someone to watch Charlotte during the day, but…” his voice trailed off as he gave a half-smile, “I’m so proud of you, Katy. I know you’ve never had a job before, or anything, but I promise you that you’re gonna do amazing.” Kaitlyn smiled weakly, clearing her throat. He paused, not sure if he were to be upset or not. “Should I…should I not be happy? Is it bad? Please tell me this isn’t bad.” Kaitlyn gave a sad smile._

_“No, it’s not bad,” Kaitlyn mentioned._

_“Then why are you upset?” Mark questioned, a reassuring smile on his face. He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss against his girlfriend’s lips, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “This is great…I’m not mad, or anything, darling. This isn’t a pride thing. This is_ wonderful _.” He gave another smile, part of him painfully excited. “Is it a pride thing? This…this isn’t a pride thing, is it?”_

_“No, it’s not a pride thing,” Kaitlyn murmured, giving a half shrug. “I just thought you would be…more upset with me? You know…like you wouldn’t want me to take it because_ you’re _the one who’s supposed to be working, or because you’re worrying about how Charlotte is going to react me being_ gone _and everything…or just because you didn’t think I could do it.” The young woman glanced off into space, shifting on the couch. Mark gave her a look of confusion. Should he…act as if he was upset? Her eyes flickered with guilt._

_“Hey, Katy, I’m not mad,” Mark breathed out. “Do you…do you want me to be mad?”_

_“What? No,” the young woman returned, sitting on her hands. “I just…I feel kinda guilty now, you know. You’re…_ happy _for me.”_

_“Yeah, of course I’m happy for you,” the young man murmured, reaching over and taking her hands in his. “I mean, why wouldn’t I be happy for you? As long as you’re happy…_ I’m _happy. You love me, I love you…you getting a job isn’t going to_ ruin _our relationship. We’ve been through a_ pregnancy, _Katy. We can take anything.” His girlfriend swallowed thickly, giving a hesitant nod of his head. Mark pursed his lips, not knowing what else he was supposed to add. “I’m_ so _incredibly proud of you, Katy. This is big. This is_ really _big. It’’s never too late to get a job, and all of this will be easier for us when Charlotte is old enough to start school. I mean, I know it seems like it’s forever away, but they grow up so fast.” The man gave a genuine smile, wrapping a comforting arm around his girlfriend’s waist, holding her close. Kaitlyn leaned on him gently, curling up slightly before resting a hand on his chest, her temple resting against his shoulder. Mark pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. “You’re happy, aren’t you?”_

_“Yeah…” Kaitlyn breathed out._

_“Honey, if you think you need to get a job to impress me…you don’t have to,” the man reassured her. “I’m telling you…if this is a pride thing…you don’t have to do this. I’m not gonna love you any_ less _just because you don’t have a job.” Mark chuckled softly. “That’s absurd.”_

_“I’m…I’m gonna have to travel to Colorado for business trips,” the young woman mentioned, glancing up at Mark apologetically. God, she looked…_ sad _. Why was she sad? “Every other week and everything. I’ll only be staying for the weekend and everything, it’s not like I’ll be gone for weeks at a time…” her voice trailed off before she returned her head to Mark’s shoulder, pulling herself closer. “Does that…is that okay?”_

_“Yeah…” Mark whispered. “Your sister can watch the baby, right?” Kaitlyn was silent for a few seconds. The young man glanced down at her girlfriend, his heart sinking slightly when he noticed her eyes were closed. “Hey…it’s okay, you don’t gotta feel guilty about getting a job. I love you, Katy…” his voice trailed off slightly._

_“I love you, too,” Kaitlyn murmured._

_“Then please don’t beat yourself up after taking a job opportunity and actually pursuing a dream instead of being tied down to the house,” Mark mentioned, letting out a soft sigh. “We’re gonna figure all of this out, okay? I mean, nothing is written in stone yet. I mean, come on…you should be happy about this. I know you’ve been talking about this for a little while…and, I’m gonna say it again…I am_ so _fucking proud of you. And I can say that because Charlotte is asleep…and if she’s not, she doesn’t know what that means.” He watched as the young woman gave a half-smile, slightly amused by the statement as she opened her eyes again, glancing up at him with a loving gaze in her eye. “If you’re only gone for the weekend, it’s not like she’s going to forget about you or anything. Charlotte loves you so much, babe. Sure, she might not get used to it at first…but she will._ I _will too. You’re worrying about nothing, darling.”_

_“Really?” Kaitlyn breathed out, her gaze lingering on him apologetically._

_“Of course,” Mark whispered. “I_ love you _, Katy…I’m not gonna just drop you over something so small. You do know that right?” The young woman smiled gently before she nodded her head. “Never ever, Katy.”_

_“I don’t deserve you…” she breathed out._

_“Well, I think we’re perfect together,” Mark cooed, giggling softly. Kaitlyn shifted into her boyfriend’s lap, smiling down at him gently. The young man leaned up gently, pressing a soft kiss against her lips. “Now…could you please stop being upset?” Kaitlyn smiled a bit before giving a small nod, gazing down at him lovingly, although the flickering in her eyes was slightly different from before. Slightly…_ duller _. Mark ignored it though, hooking his arms carefully around his lover’s waist and giving a genuine smile. He could get used to the feeling of being lost in her gaze._

∞§—————§∞

Mark's eyes opened without a second thought when the sound of wailing rented the air. For a few seconds, he didn’t even know how to react. It surely wasn’t his alarm clock, that was for sure. He lay there, allowing himself to process everything as he carefully pressed a hand against his temple, feeling a dull headache starting to brood in the back of his skull. Once again, his bed felt emptier than usual, but he supposed that was a feeling he would have to grow used to. No dream he had would be enough to bring his ex-girlfriend back, he knew that well enough…and no dream would be able to ever make him love her again. Still, he thought about her presence just the same…remembering how fucking _oblivious_ to everything that had been swept under his nose the entire time, things that _any_ sane person would manage to question. How uncomfortable Kaitlyn had always seemed to be whenever he brought up the common topic of her job, how he _never_ really seemed to learn what she truly did for a living…how the loving gazes he gave her were never fully received, or how she had started shifting away from him when they shared a bed. Everything had been so painfully obvious, and Mark knew that now…if only he had learned that early on, before he had managed to get his heart broken.

Of course, he should have known it from how _guilty_ his girlfriend had seemed as soon as she brought up the fact that she was accepting a new ‘job opportunity’. That was the portion of Kaitlyn’s starting affair where part of her felt remorseful…where part of her was dreading what she was getting herself swept into, because part of her still loved Mark and because part of her knew what she was doing was wrong. But Mark knew well enough that she was still heartless enough to do it anyway, something that still shocked him even to the day. The man could have _sworn_ throughout their entire relationship that Kaitlyn was the most genuine and truthful woman that he had ever met or ever shared a conversation with. Throughout the entire pregnancy…God, he could have sworn that she was the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with. That she was the woman he was going to marry. Mark supposed he had no one but himself to blame for getting his heartbroken…anyone else would have easily understood from the beginning that Kaitlyn was a cheater…the fact that he had needed physical evidence was one of the most foolish portions of the relationship. Although his mind lingered on her for time to time, Mark didn’t miss her…and he didn’t understand why he had such… _painfully_ vivid dreams about her.

Nevertheless, Mark redirected his attention to the matter at hand. Charlotte was crying. Hysterically. The man couldn’t know why, of course, he couldn’t remember the last time that his daughter had been shrieking due to a nightmare. After all, she had the nightlight on in the room, it was never truly pitch black for her. Mark couldn’t imagine it being anything else, of course…there was no reason for a young girl to be crying in the middle of the night. He pulled himself out of bed nonetheless, quickly turning on the lamp so he could navigate through his own bedroom, instead of stumbling around in the dark. Mark had to force himself to stop walking as his vision clouded up, something that commonly happened when he stood up too fast. He muttered under his breath, waiting for the darkness and disorientation to fade before he quickly exited his bedroom, walking across the hall to Charlotte’s. Mark carefully opened her bedroom door, his heart sinking painfully in his chest as he noticed his daughter curled up on her bed. Mark didn’t know how long she had been crying before, but he wasn’t going to wait another second standing around and just watching her as her face went flush and her eyes got swollen.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Mark whispered, his voice reassuring as he walked over to the bed. He sat at the edge of it carefully, watching how the young girl quickly shifted so she could be close to him. Of course, the man didn’t say anything in retaliation, swiftly assuming the position of holding his daughter in his arms, feeling her continue to cry onto his shoulder. “Shh, hey, everything’s okay…” he breathed out. Mark didn’t know what was eating away at her, but it obviously wasn’t anything good. Charlotte had never cried like this since she was a baby…this was never really something he had had to experience for quite some time now. “Did you have a nightmare?” He asked softly, feeling the fabric of his shirt grow damp. She obviously wasn’t letting up. However, Charlotte shook her head. Mark swallowed thickly, feeling helplessly stumped as he held his crying daughter in his arms, not knowing what he was really supposed to do. “Did you fall out of bed?” He pondered.

“N-No,” Charlotte stammered through tears, pausing for a few seconds before she just continued _sobbing_. Mark’s heart was seemingly in pieces as he just held her, breathing softly in an effort to get her to calm down as well.

“Shhh, everything’s okay, I’m here,” Mark whispered, feeling her grip on him tighten. “Nothing’s gonna get you, okay? Whatever is making you sad…everything’s okay.” He continued breathing off soft sentences of reassurance, knowing well enough it might not be what he needed to get her to calm down…but he would try anyway. God, he really did hate seeing his daughter in such a state. It broke his heart. “What’s the matter, honey?” 

“M-Mommy,” Charlotte choked out, her voice breaking. Mark fell silent, being quick to hold her tighter. She missed her. God…he really never thought he would ever have to be in a position like this. Mark simply gave a small nod of his head, growing accustomed to the sobs, although they seemed to quiet down. Charlotte continued speaking incoherently, ‘Mommy’ being repeated a few more times, but the man could barely make out what she was saying through the tears. Charlotte needed her.

“I know, I know,” Mark whispered softly. “It’s…it’s okay to cry, honey.” His eyes watered a bit, but thankfully Charlotte’s eyes were buried in her shoulder. “I’m here, it’s okay.” Mark didn’t know what he was supposed to say. He too had been where Charlotte was after the breakup…groveling and wallowing in self-pity, sobbing uncontrollably and just _longing_ to have her back. He supposed that the young girl was at the age where she was truly starting to grasp everything…where she was slowly starting to _long_ for a missing piece in her life, something that Mark would _never_ be able to completely fulfill. He could love her as much as he wanted, yes…but Charlotte needed two parents. Not one. “It’s okay to miss her…”

Mark felt a tear slip down his cheek, but he held her just the same.

Fathers were supposed to be strong.

Even when they felt like breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m absolutely obsessed with the backstory I’ve made for Mark, I’m not gonna lie. I just think that everything is so interesting, and it’s so fun doing flashbacks for him. I know some of you guys don’t like flashbacks, so I’m super super sorry that you have to sit through this chapter, but I just can’t help myself, lol. Also, sorry that this took longer than expected to get out. I really thought I would be finished the day after I posted the previous chapter, but (as mentioned prior) I got a lil carried away with the wordcount. Honest to God, I didn’t realize until I copy and pasted it over here. 
> 
> But, on a different note, is there anything you guys would like to see from me in the future? I’ve got a journal full of ideas, but I’m always open to adding things you guys would like to see. I don’t really do one shots, though, only because I tend to write a lot. If you got to experience my one shot book, you know that it only lasted for a day because I can’t commit to writing shorter stories without feeling the need to expand. Plus, I didn’t want to take up the entire wordcount.  
> Anyway, I’m open to ideas that are set in any time period or in any place. I’m not the biggest fantasy writer, but I could attempt to write something for that genre, lol. Realistic fiction is really one of the main things I write. 
> 
> Again, thank you guys for all the support. 
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply!
> 
> [P.S.]  
> Someone asked me what my pronouns were: they’re she/her. Thank you for being considerate <3


	24. Please Don't Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lil bit of angst, lol  
> I am very tired rn, enjoy

The man glanced at the analog clock in the top right corner of his screen for what seemed to be the millionth time throughout the day. Sure enough, the time had barely changed since the last time Mark had checked. 8:43. The time had continued dragging on throughout the day, taking longer to reach each minute milestone seemingly the more frequent Mark checked, his fingers drumming mindlessly against the desk in his cubicle as he just prayed for the day to be over. For the past week, Mark really _had_ enjoyed going to work. He had enjoyed the environment, especially knowing that for once he was receiving an opportunity that had been passed to _him_ only. Eric was finally recognizing him, and that surely wasn’t something that the man could just take for granted. After all, it wasn’t every day where an opportunity like that arose, especially considering how promotions always seemed to be handed off mindlessly to any new member of the company, even if they had only been there for a few weeks. Mark supposed that he himself just hadn’t been lucky enough to receive one when he had first joined the company, since no one had bothered giving him even a second glance within his first month…surely not the thought of a promotion. It was always something Mark had found unfair, of course, but for once it didn’t matter. For once, something was finally going his way.

Mark just wanted to get home and see his daughter, just to make sure she was okay. Not in the sense that she wasn’t alright with Ethan…but the man had never seen Charlotte in the state that she had been the previous night. In a fit of hysterics, tears streaming down her face to the point where a few strands of her hair were sticking to her cheeks as she sobbed onto his shoulder. He supposed he had counted his blessings until that point, since he had been lucky enough to never see a day where Charlotte _truly_ asked about her mother in a desire to want her back. Sure, Mark had lived through the questions of what she had been like, or what she looked like, or when she was coming back, or if she had just gotten lost and would be returning soon. Most of those questions had came when Charlotte was younger, of course, right after Kaitlyn had left. It had surely been a confusing period for the young girl, since her father had never really given her a proper answer to her mother’s disappearance. It would always be a tale of how her mother had gone away, and even though she loved the two of them…she was never coming back.

It was always something that Mark had struggled telling his daughter. Sure, it was something she had accepted easily enough…but having to wear a facade and act as if he himself was alright with everything that had happened, just so he wouldn’t worry Charlotte…it was harder than Mark had expected. Having to hold a straight face while he calmly told his daughter that her mother, the love of his life and the woman he had wished to marry not soon after the arrival of the baby, wouldn’t be coming home. Having to hold in tears just so he wouldn’t break right in front of her…all so he could act as if Kaitlyn truly cared about him…all so Charlotte wouldn’t get upset. It was the last thing that the young girl needed growing up; knowing that her mother hadn’t loved her enough to stay. Knowing that _she_ hadn’t been enough to keep her mother around. It was one of the most heartbreaking thoughts, something that the young man at the time hadn’t wanted his daughter to know. For all she cared, her mother still loved her and, although she wouldn’t be coming back, was always thinking about her. With nothing but a charm bracelet and a few stuffed animals to remember her by, that was how it had always seemed; in Charlotte’s eyes, her mother was a generous person who just happened to fall in love with someone else, something that Mark had romanticized well enough so his daughter wouldn’t be in a fit of tears every afternoon.

It was always something that Mark had thought would work, of course. And, well…it _had_ been working. The young girl had never really asked for her mother as if she needed her ever since a few months after Kaitlyn had left. His daughter had just stopped asking, and the young man had supposed that she had finally come to terms with everything. As the years followed, that seemed to be the only explanation for it, the girl never asking for her mother. Of course…that didn’t seem to be the case anymore. After the previous night, it had become apparent to Mark that Charlotte had simply been biting her tongue throughout the years, wearing a similar facade that he had worn while he thought he had managed to convince her that everything was alright. She too had been trying to convince her father that she was fine, but the young man knew well enough that she wasn’t. Charlotte had longed for her mother last night…and Mark had just had to sit there, holding her tightly in his arms as he whispered that everything alright when he knew well enough that it _wasn’t_. Raising a child on his own wasn’t the most difficult of chores, but it wasn’t just the work of it all. It was the fact that Charlotte needed to be _influenced_ by more than one person. No one had really come forward to fill the gaping mess that Kaitlyn had left behind when she flew off to Colorado. Instead, it had just remained the same, Mark trying to act as if he could assume both parenting roles…but he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried, Charlotte was far from the age of fully understanding everything.

Mark hadn’t really even been able to get her to _stop_ crying the previous night. He had simply held her in his arms, the fabric of his shirt growing damper by the second as she cried into it, wiping her eyes repeatedly. The man hadn’t really known what to do. When she was younger, as a baby…Charlotte didn’t really have the capacity to cry for over a few minutes. And, if she did, Mark had simply sung to her to get her to stop, just the comforting sound of his voice being enough to soothe her. He had known well enough that it wouldn’t work for her now, though. No amount of singing would be enough for her sobbing to stop. So, Mark did something he hadn’t really done since the young girl was a baby…he simply held her, doing nothing more but whispering that everything would be alright. It hurt him, of course. After all, Charlotte was his daughter, and despite all of his efforts to shield her from the apparent fact that her mother was gone and that the young girl truly needed another parent…it had gotten to her. Part of him knew that it would have happened eventually. But, nevertheless, it had come sooner than expected. It broke Mark’s heart, to say the least. Having to simply sit on his daughter’s bed, holding her in his arms until she physically couldn’t cry anymore, eventually falling asleep with her eyes still buried into the fabric of his shirt. Even after that, Mark had held her, a feeling of relief washing over him once the crying had stopped. That was when the man allowed himself to hang his head, taking a deep breath and letting everything get to him again once he had tucked his daughter back in.

Mark had never really had time to be upset about the whole ordeal when he was younger. It had happened so quickly, of course, to the point where he had been left in nothing but a state of shock for the entire following day, where he had simply taken the day off of work. However, the day after that had been much worse. Two days after Kaitlyn’s departure had been where everything slowly began to sink in. The fact that she wasn’t coming back…the fact that he had loved her more than almost anything in the world, yet she had left him and their daughter as if they meant nothing to her…the fact that she loved another man more than she could ever love him or Charlotte. It was fucked up, especially the more that Mark thought about it. Of course, it was never something that the young man had allowed himself to be upset about. He had never really _allowed_ himself to cry about it…he never found the time to. With Charlotte around constantly…well, he never wanted to cry in front of her. That was the last thing that any child needed to see: their own father crying. It was never really something that Mark had seen from his own father when he was growing up. Of course, the man knew well enough that crying was okay…it was _okay_ to cry, but he never wanted to do it in front of his daughter. That would only upset her more than Mark needed…thus the illusion. The whole reason why he had _acted_ fine was that worrying Charlotte was the last thing he wanted to do.

Mark knew that if his daughter noticed him crying, or noticed him upset…she would be upset too. It was just in the nature of children in having the ability to read the room, and it certainly wasn’t something the man had wanted his daughter picking up on. So, he never cried when he was around her. And, of course, he couldn’t exactly break down in tears during the middle of work…so Mark found that he just _couldn’t_ express any of his emotions about the situation. They would remain bottled up inside while he blamed only himself for the entire situation, almost as if that would be _comforting_ for him. Almost as if that would make him _feel better_. Mark would return to work every day, as always, and sit behind the same desk in the same cubicle as he always had…holding his breath and biting his tongue as his fingers flew across the keyboard, his eyes darting as he glanced from the financial records to the screen, occasionally making adjustments. There really wasn’t a _way_ for him to cope with anything…he guessed that working was his coping method. Mark would have rather been caught dead than crying at work, which was where he spent most of the day…so that had been enough to just keep everything in. All his emotions, all his tears, all his _despair_ …he bottled it all up. Every last bit of it, almost as if it didn’t exist. Almost as if he had never had a girlfriend in the first place, and as if he had been raising his daughter on his own for the entire remainder of her life anyway. Almost as if Kaitlyn had never broken his heart.

But, despite how much he tried to neglect the thought, at the end of the night the little voice in the back of his head would remind him, without failure, that she had left him; that Kaitlyn was gone, and that little voice would always insist that it was _his_ fault. That he hadn’t loved her enough, or that he had put too much pressure on her by expecting her to stay home with Charlotte constantly, or that maybe he hadn’t supported her enough throughout her pregnancy. The excuses would ramble on, of course. Maybe Mark hadn’t tried his best to stop them from drifting away, or maybe if he had just noticed everything _sooner_ …he could have stopped it. Excuse after excuse as to why everything was _his_ fault, as to why he was the one to blame, would pile up in the back of his head. The thought that Mark was never good enough…the thought that she left him because she knew she deserved better, or because she knew she would never want to marry someone like him, or because maybe he _was_ a bad father, and he just didn’t know it. The thoughts would just eat away at him as he lay in his bed, breathing shakily as he tried to clear his mind. Tormenting opinions of his mind that only attempted to plant himself as the scapegoat were always littered in the back of his head, and they hadn’t gone away until recently. Throughout most of Charlotte growing up, the man had had to live with part of him believing that _he_ was the reason Charlotte didn’t have a mother. That he could have been better….that he _should_ have been better. 

And every morning, just the same, he had woken knowing that he had no one to talk to him about it…no friends to turn to. It surely wasn’t something that Mark had wanted to share with his co-workers, since it didn’t concern them and they didn’t know him well enough…so he kept it to himself. Mark would wake up the same every day, taking a deep breath before exiting his room to get breakfast ready before he got Charlotte up. In the first two weeks after his girlfriend had left, the man had always had to force a smile, no matter what his daughter did. Everything he did had just been so completely _fake_ …every grin, every crinkle of his eyes, every forced laughter…all to make his daughter happy. Because, at the end of the day, the young man hadn’t known what he would do if she got swept up into all of it. After all, it was hardly her fault. Yes, Kaitlyn had truly never loved her own daughter as much as she should have, but that wasn’t the reason why his girlfriend had left them, no. He knew that she had left them because she didn’t love Mark as much as she loved the man she was having an affair with off in Colorado, and it was something that had made the young man _sick_ to his stomach…knowing that he had tried so hard to keep her around, but she fell head-over-heels for someone else.

It had pained him even more, of course, when he had learned that Kaitlyn had started a family in Colorado less than a year later. Everything she had claimed she wasn’t ready for…she was doing it with him; with _Carter_. All of the bullshit excuses she had made up about not being ready, or how everything seemed so rushed…the woman ended up being married in less than a year, following by a pregnancy that Mark knew well enough had been planned. When Kaitlyn had said that she had been too young to start a family…she meant that she hadn’t wanted to start a family with _Mark_. It seemed like she had just…forgotten about them, of course. It was at that moment that Mark knew well enough that she was _never_ coming back; part of him had always believed that maybe she would come back groveling if she didn’t get everything she had hoped for from Carter. For the first two or three months afterward, he _truly_ believed that she would be back. Foolish, that was the only way Mark could describe it. He had been painfully and _utterly_ foolish to believe that Kaitlyn would ever manage to love him enough to return. She had forgotten about the family she had left behind, and in turn, she was starting a new one, one that Mark knew she would consider better. In a sense, his ex-girlfriend had just been allowing herself to _start over_ , as if she had never touched the lives of people back in New York City. As if she wasn’t the _reason_ that Mark moved there in the first place.

Everything Mark had done while they were dating had been for her, and it was a beyond shitty feeling knowing that she had just tossed it all away without a second thought about _who_ she was hurting. She took a perfectly stable relationship, one that the young man had once thought would end in marriage at the time…and she threw it aside; Kaitlyn had thrown it aside at the drop of a hat, all so she could marry someone who had only wanted her at the beginning for sex. That was something that would never completely sit right with him, of course…knowing that _despite_ how much he had supported Kaitlyn, and how much he had wanted her to succeed, and how much he _loved_ her…Kaitlyn had chosen someone she considered more ‘fit’ to be her boyfriend. Someone who would have sex with her whenever she wanted, or would buy her anything she asked for…someone who had supposedly promised her _freedom_ , something that Mark had offered her time and time again, insisting that not everything she did had to be centered around their daughter, or staying at the house. Within a year, though, she was married. Kaitlyn had a seemingly perfect wedding in Colorado, one that Mark obviously hadn’t been invited to, and she was pregnant within a week after that. And all Mark could do was stare down at his phone, feeling as if he was dying on the inside as he forced another smile, only to slip his phone away and read a bedtime story to his daughter.

Yet, despite all of his efforts to keep everything held inside…it was obvious that Charlotte had still managed to find a way to be upset about the situation; quite frankly, of course, Mark would hardly blame her. She was doing something that the man had _wished_ he had allowed himself to do…crying…screaming…falling _apart_. Mark had never given himself the satisfaction of just holding himself in his arms, sobbing hysterically into a pillow or slamming his fist against a wall. Not around his daughter, he couldn’t…not around his co-workers, or in front of strangers. He couldn’t do it _anywhere_ …it was hopeless. Of course, over the years…Mark had managed to come to terms with everything, in the sense that he had learned to accept that it _wasn’t_ his fault. God, it had taken him too long…he had blamed himself for _too long_. If only part of him had been able to convince himself of that when he was younger…the day that Kaitlyn had left. If only he had been able to just… _pull himself together_ , and realize that it couldn’t have been his fault. _Nothing_ he could have done would have gotten his girlfriend to stay…she had already shamelessly fallen head-over-heels for someone else, someone who she had deemed better. That was on her own doing…because she couldn’t realize that Mark had already offered her everything he could. All the love he could offer, he had given. 

However, Mark feared that his daughter would slowly be slipping into the painful emotions that he had once bottled up inside…except, this time, it was obvious the young girl wouldn’t keep it to herself. The previous night had only been an example for him. Mark didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, though. After all, as much as he hated seeing his daughter in pain…knowing when she was upset and when he would be able to help her was only beneficial. After all…Charlotte could have easily bit her tongue the previous night, remaining quiet and crying softly instead, something that wouldn’t have alerted her father. Mark would have never even known that she was being troubled in the first place…part of him wondered if she had been used before then. Had he been oblivious to this for quite some time, simply missing the signals because he didn’t think that Kaitlyn leaving would affect her? The man liked to think that wasn’t the case…he didn’t know how he would feel if it was revealed she had been hurting like that before, and he had just never noticed. Mark would have to ask Ethan if everything was alright while he was gone; he would ask him when he got back at the house, which would be soon, considering the time that had somehow managed to change while he was in thought…for once.

Mark hummed softly, pushing away from his computer now that he was finished with the work from the day. Although the man knew that staying a few extra minutes would possibly be beneficial, he just wanted to make sure that he could tidy up his presentation, which would be coming up at the end of the week. That was really the only exciting thing that the man had on his schedule: knowing that he would have the chance to present in front of not only Eric…but Eric’s _boss_. It was more than enough to make any businessman excited, of course, especially one who had been overlooked for practically his entire life. For _once_ he was receiving the recognition that he deserved…it was new. Almost unnatural, of course, like it was too good to be true. The man smiled to himself as he reached for his phone, reluctantly lipping it into his back pocket before he stood up from his chair. He crouched down carefully, grabbing his briefcase before resting it on the chair. Mark hummed softly underneath his breath, reaching over for the file of financial records on his cubicle desk. He supposed the least he could do was take some of his work home with him. After all, he was sure that cleaning up his presentation wouldn’t take painfully long…it never hurt to be prepared for the following day, of course. It was more than enough to make him look good, especially in front of his boss.

Once Mark had finished packing up his station, he grabbed his suitcase, holding it steadily in his left hand before pulling away from his desk. The man let out a content sigh, feeling absolutely relieved that the day was finally over. Sure, Mark _liked_ work, in the sense that he liked to think about what could possibly be ahead for him in his division. Mark assumed nothing but the promotion, of course., After all, as Eric had previously mentioned…Eric’s boss was _only_ looking for Mark to join them at the meeting. It was beyond surreal, of course, knowing that all of this was happening so soon. Despite all of the terrible things that had happened in his life…a few things looked as if they were finally turning around. Sure, not everything was perfect… but for once the man seemed to have hope. Hope that everything would be alright…hope that he would be able to provide more for his daughter…it was a wonderful feeling, something that Mark wished he could be able to experience more often. Being able to smile so genuinely while he was at work, knowing that every second he was working he might be catching the attention of his _boss’s_ boss…it was wonderful. Mark gave a content smile, feeling cheerful despite his coworkers, before he exited his cubicle. It would be nice to surprise his daughter by arriving home slightly early. He always enjoyed the look of excitement on her face, her eyes lighting up as they crinkled happily. Wrapping his daughter in a hug was one of the greatest parts of his evening…something that Mark would admit to looking forward to. It was something he would never take for granted, not even for a second…part of him knew well enough that Kaitlyn could have _easily_ taken Charlotte with her.

Mark walked down the row of cubicles, his heart beating steadily in his chest as he made his way toward the elevators. However, as he continued walking, the man found himself being stopped by the sound of someone ushering him over to their cubicle. The man glanced over his right shoulder hesitantly, his eyes flickering with confusion as he was met with a man waving at him from his cubicle. Mark had seen him around once or twice before, mostly in the break room near the water dispenser so he could refill his water bottle. The man would admit to never having _spoken_ to him before…but he knew his name. His name was Joseph, one of the newest recruits of the division, only having been hired three weeks prior. He supposed he seemed to know what he was doing, of course. Mark cocked his eyebrow slightly, hesitantly stepping over to him.

“Mark, is it?” Joseph questioned, smiling a bit as he relaxed into his seat. The older man shifted slightly with discomfort, gripping his suitcase slightly tighter. “I’m Joseph, if you didn’t already know,” the man continued, giving a half-smile as he shifted in his seat again. “It’s alright if you don’t exactly know who I am. I’m new here…I got hired three Thursdays ago.”

“Yeah…Mark,” the man confirmed, giving an awkward smile. “I guess I’m not part of the welcome committee. I hope you like it here, though.” Mark hummed softly, not really knowing what else he was supposed to say. Was he supposed to extend his hand? Joseph wasn’t, so surely he was looking for more than just an acquaintance. Nevertheless, the man paused thoughtfully, clearing his throat. “I’d actually better get going,” he admitted, gesturing his head over to the elevators. “I’ve got my daughter waiting at home and all…I wouldn’t want to be late. I walk back.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” the younger man mentioned softly, humming underneath his breath. “I just wanted to let you know if you were planning on the two of us collaborating for the meeting on Friday, or if you maybe wanted me to make a presentation of my own. I’m fine with doing that, of course. I’ve whipped up things quicker in the past. I just assume it would be _easier_ if I referenced off of some of your PowerPoint slides, considering the entire thing would go a bit smoother. I’m sure Eric wouldn’t mind it either, of course.” Mark cocked his eyebrow slightly, his mouth opening a bit, but no words came out. He had absolutely no idea what Joseph was talking about. The presentation on Friday…how did he know about that? Mark cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly again.

“I…uh, I don’t know what you mean,” Mark returned softly, his eyebrows furrowing slightly before he finally returned to his normal composure. “I’ve been…have you…?” He didn’t understand.

“Oh, maybe I have the wrong person,” Joseph replied, giving a simple shrug of his shoulders. “Forget about it, in that case. If you know who’s the one that was chosen to present at Friday’s meeting last week, could you let me know? I guess I’m not really, you know, _familiar_ with everyone at the office. I could have _sworn_ Eric said _you_ were the one that his boss had fixed when he recommended me and suggested I be there at the meeting, but maybe I’m just making it up. Work, am I right? You forget _so much shit_ when you’ve got records to look over.” He gestured his hand over to the open files on his desk. Mark swallowed thickly, his eyes flickering slightly. “Well, I don’t wanna keep your daughter waiting,” Joseph admitted, relaxing into his seat again, clicking his pen for a few seconds. “Nice to meet you though, Mark. I haven’t really talked to a lot of the people who work here.”

“No, I…I think you’ve got the right person,” Mark admitted, his voice shaky. He still didn’t quite understand. “Eric’s boss wanted me to be at the meeting on Friday? I…I thought I was the only one?” His voice came out as a question as he stood there weakly, not knowing what else he was supposed to say. Joseph simply chuckled in return, recorrecting his posture in his chair as he shifted. “I, uh…I…I already finished the presentation, I…I didn’t make it collaborative.” He cleared his throat again. He felt _extremely_ uncomfortable.

“Oh…I thought that Eric had told you by now, considering he had so much _enthusiasm_ when he told me he had recommended me to his boss,” Joseph explained, a simple smile on his face before he cleared his throat, although it wasn’t in an uncomfortable way that Mark had done. The older man simply stood there, his heart shuttering before sinking lower in his chest. “I mean, what is any good promotion without some avid completion, wouldn’t you agree? Just doesn’t quite seem the same when you’re the only one in the running. It’s like winning class president when no one else was brave enough to run against you…winning by default is hardly winning at all, and I guess Eric was thinking the same thing when he told me that he wanted me to either work on my own presentation for the meeting on Friday, or ask if I could collaborate with you. It’s obvious that you’re proud of your work, though, and I don’t blame you. I’ll just make a quick PowerPoint presentation of my own, and maybe we can talk about some ideas we wanted to go through afterward. How does that sound?” Mark’s throat went dry.

“I, um…I was _promised_ that I was the only one…I…” his voice trailed off as he stood there sadly, a sickening feeling churning away in his stomach. “Eric…he told me that…that I was…” Joseph cocked his head slightly, almost as if he didn’t understand. The older man knew well enough that he did, though…there was no way that the man _couldn’t_ understand what he was talking about. “I’ve never…I’ve never really had the chance at a promotion before, I-I…it’s always been offered to someone else.”

Joseph pursed his lips slightly. “Well, that doesn’t sound very fair, although I don’t really know what that has to do with _me_.” Mark’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, but he bit his tongue, stopping himself from snapping. “Look, all I wanted to know was whether or not you were willing to collaborate during the meeting. Obviously you don’t want to, so you can go home now.”

“He _promised_ …” Mark murmured.

“So you’ve said,” Joseph returned. 

“Why…why did he reach out to you?” The man questioned, not even knowing what to say. He felt so… _broken_. For the first time in his life, the man had _truly_ believed that he had a shot at something; now, he was being told that one of the newest additions to the division was receiving nothing but special treatment from their boss…and he already knew well enough that younger associates were _always_ considered for promotions over those who had worked there longer, and Mark hardly knew why. “He…he reached out to _you_? Eric? You didn’t…you didn’t reach out to him, did you?”

“I didn’t even know there was a presentation on Friday until Eric told me about it,” Joseph returned smugly, raising his hands to the height of his shoulder, as if someone had aimed a gun at him and he was willing to surrender. “I wasn’t aware this whole thing was treated like some _secret society_ , where no one knows about the promotions until they’re considered, or until another co-worker tells them. Honest to God, though…he came to _me_. No hard feelings, though, right? I mean, the promotion goes to whoever deserves it more.”

Mark swallowed thickly, fighting back a choking noise as he stood there, his hand trembling slightly before he shoved it into his pocket. Joseph stared back at him simply, that same instigating gaze flickering in his eyes as he cocked his head, shifting in his seat again. “I wouldn’t count on anything, though,” Joseph continued, clearing his throat again as he continued clicking his pen, no longer allowing himself to meet Mark’s gaze, which was just about the most degrading thing of the entire situation; how someone so much younger than he could act so _entirely_ cocky, despite being handed practically everything on a silver platter the second he had arrived at the company. It was beyond unfair, and Mark knew that well enough. There was nothing the older man could say about it, of course, keeping his mouth shut as he simply stared back at him. “I mean…if Eric is able to persuade his boss to put in a good word for _me_ …I guess all of this is over, wouldn’t you think?” He smiled a bit, almost pridefully before resting his pen down on his desk. “Now you _really_ should be getting home to your daughter. You mentioned something about walking back, didn’t you? I wouldn’t want you to be late or you daughter to be upset, all because I pulled you aside.”

The man allowed himself to stand there for a few more seconds, his bottom lip quivering before he quickly pulled himself away from the cubicle. Joseph said something in return, but his voice was seemingly was he out by the thoughts flying through Mark’s mind. His heart was in his throat, his grip tightening around the handle of his briefcase. Part of him could hardly believe it…Eric had _promised_ …God, and Mark had been foolish enough to actually believe that he would have a chance. Sure, he supposed he still had a chance…but most of it had just been torn away and handed over to someone else; just like always. It was _never_ different. Just the same sickening feeling as a promotion was tossed aside to someone else…over, and over, and _over_ again. This time would be no different. He knew that no matter how clearly he spoke on Friday, or no matter how well his PowerPoint presentation was assembled…nothing would make a difference. Nothing _ever_ changed. The older man felt his eyes watering as he continued walking down the row of cubicles, making his way over to the elevators. He wiped his eyes with the cuff of his blazer, sniffling a bit. Somehow, in only the span of a few minutes…his day had managed to turn completely upside down. Completely, entirely, and _undeniably_ in the other direction.

∞§—————§∞

Ethan giggled softly as he watched Charlotte slide the ball across the floor again, something that the two of them had managed to find entertainment out of doing for the past ten minutes. It was the simpler things in life that he appreciated, of course, which was something he had come to realize now that he had been working with children for the past few months. Especially with Charlotte, of course. He found that even the little moments that he shared with her were filled with such excitement, to the point where they could simply be rereading the same picture book over and over…and he wouldn’t even mind. Ethan would read anything as many times as he asked for, and he would look at the same stuffed animals that the young girl wanted to share with him; he would glance over this shoulder as the young girl drew a picture or her father, and part of him didn’t mind rewatching the same movies. It was nice. Of course, the occasional texts from his friend were more than enough to get him through the day. However, he hadn’t yet received a message from Mark informing him when he would be back. He assumed it would only be later, in that case. The older man must have been caught up in something important.

“What time will my daddy be home?” Charlotte questioned curiously, smiling as the young man rolled the ball back over to her. She shifted slightly on the carpet, moving one of her stuffed animals that she had brought into the living room to the side. “I wanna show him the drawing.” She was referring to the small illustration she had made from him, using the new Crayons that Ethan had bought for her. He supposed it was the least he could do for the young girl, considering how he had noticed that her markers were starting to dry up. It was obvious that coloring supplies for his daughter weren’t the first thing on Mark’s shopping list, and Ethan couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, there were more important things for the man to be worrying about purchasing in the grand scheme of things. He supposed he would tell Mark when he got back, just so he wouldn’t wonder where they had come from. 

“I don’t know, honey,” Ethan admitted, giving a simple shrug of his shoulders as he leaned back against the frame of the couch, thinking for a few seconds. “He hasn’t mentioned anything, so I think that he won’t be back for a little while.”

“Are you still gonna stay for dinner?” Charlotte questioned curiously, hopefulness littered in her voice. The young man couldn’t help but smile from the question. Although having to eat dinner with the two of them wasn’t exactly his _favorite_ part of the day…it was always nice having someone else’s company during the evening, instead of having to sit alone at his own kitchen table while scrolling mindlessly through his phone. It obviously was something that he hadn’t quite gotten used to, although he had started acknowledging Mark a little bit more when the older man asked for him to eat something. Slowly, but surely, Ethan found himself becoming more comfortable with his friend’s presence while they were eating. Sure, it wasn’t something he would become _entirely_ comfortable with anytime soon, considering he would still often find himself turning his head away as he chewed, often going to the extent as looking up at the ceiling. Anything to get away with it, he supposed. One of these days, though, if Mark still allowed him to stay for dinner of course, the young man liked to think that he would be able to eat a meal without having to be persuaded; he would be able to eat happily and naturally, not subconsciously thinking that all of the eyes in the room were on him as he chewed.

“As long as your daddy is still alright with me having dinner with you,” Ethan answered, a smile on his face as he watched the young girl grin in return. It was an obvious yes, of course. The dinner conversation was a nice touch, at least. The topic of the evening would often drift off to something from a Disney movie, like where Charlotte was surprised when she learned that _Snow White and the Seven Dwarves_ was drawn completely frame by frame, picture by picture, something that had actually taken ten minutes of convincing for her to completely grasp. Ethan had been smiling the entire time, of course, watching as the older man completely lost his mind trying to convince his daughter of the truth. “I think I’ll be having dinner over here for a while, actually,” he continued, giving a simple shrug of his shoulders. 

“How come?” The young girl asked. Ethan pursed his lips, thinking for a few seconds.

“Well, I guess I just like your company so much that I don’t mind staying an extra hour,” the young man returned. Charlotte giggled a bit, her almond eyes crinkling. Ethan sighed contently, glancing up at the ceiling and letting his thoughts through his head. “Your daddy was nice enough to let me stay for dinner, too, so there’s that. It was his idea, actually.” The young man glanced down at Charlotte, nodding her head as if she understood. He cracked a half-smile, passing the ball back over to her once more.

“Do you know what we’re having for dinner tonight?”

Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter. “Afraid not,” he admitted, a dramatic sad undertone before he eventually gave a small smile. “Your daddy hasn’t really texted me all day. I guess he’s busy, though. You gotta work hard to be able to afford Disney movies.” The young girl giggled softly from the analogy, nodding her head again. Her eyes lingered down at the young man’s feet.

“My daddy has a pair of socks like those,” she mentioned thoughtfully, pointing her hand over. Ethan looked down at his socks, his heart fluttering slightly. The rainbow ones. “He doesn’t wear ‘em a lot though, since he says they don’t go with what he wears.” The brunette couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of Mark wearing rainbow socks to work. It surely would make a statement, although he was sure it would attract a few glances. After all, most businessmen wore the stereotypically simple mahogany or pebble grey socks, ones that managed to match the rest of their outfit, all so they could look presentable. He was sure rainbow socks weren’t worth a write-up…but they would definitely receive some looks. “Where didja buy em?”

Ethan gave a half-smile. “My friend Sean bought them for me,” he admitted. “A lot of places sell rainbow socks, especially during June. I’m not sure we’d be able to pin down a certain place.” He leaned back against the frame of the couch again, catching the ball when Charlotte rolled it back toward him. 

“Why June?” Charlotte squeaked. “Wha bout ‘tember, cause that’s where everyone goes shoppin’ for school.” Ethan gave a small smile. For someone who had a father who dated both men and women, she surely didn’t know a lot about the background of it all.

“Well, that’s Pride Month,” the young man replied gently. Charlotte wrinkled her nose, obviously not understanding. Ethan added nothing more, of course. If the young girl wanted to question further, he knew well enough that she would, considering how curious she was. Until then, Ethan found himself rolling the ball back over to her. He drummed his fingers lightly against the ground, hoping that Mark would message him when he was getting back. He liked being prepared.

“What’s that?” Charlotte asked curiously. Ethan gave a small smile.

“Well, Pride Month is basically where people acknowledge the history of the LGB…” his voice trailed off. That was obviously too complicated for a young girl to understand. “Pride Month is where people who…” his voice trailed off again. God, this was harder to explain than he thought it was. “Your daddy likes boys and girls, right?” Ethan questioned. Charlotte blinked simply, sitting there for a few seconds before she hesitantly nodded her head in confirmation. “Well, Pride Month is for people like your daddy.”

“What’d’you mean?”

“Well, a lot of boys in the world only like girls,” Ethan explained. “And a lot of girls only like boys. Pride Month is for the girls who like girls, and the boys who like boys, or the boys and girls who like both. Other people too, but that part is kinda confusing.” Charlotte thought for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding her head. “The common symbol for Pride Month and everything is a rainbow,” he continued, gesturing down to his socks. “A rainbow can just be a rainbow sometimes, but I wear these socks because they represent pride. Does that make any sense?”

“Kinda,” Charlotte admitted. She thought for a few seconds, not saying anything. “Do you like both?”

Ethan chuckled softly before shaking his head. “I’m gay,” he returned.

“I dunno what that means.”

“I like boys,” the young man explained in simpler terms. “Which is why Sean bought me these socks for my birthday. Cause he knows I’m part of a community of _so_ many wonderful people, just like me and your daddy, and he wants me to be proud of it. A lot of people don’t always like it, which is why Pride Month exists. So we can show… _bullies_ that we don’t care what they think go us.” Charlotte smiled a bit, her eyes lighting up ever so slightly as she looked back at Ethan.

“Am I gay then?” Charlotte questioned. “Cause one time there was this boy at daycare who was nice to me cause he shared the blocks, and we held hands.” Ethan stifled his laughter.

“No, honey, gay means boys liking boys or girls liking girls,” Ethan returned.

“So what am I then?” Charlotte questioned.

“I think this is a conversation for you to have with your daddy,” the young man admitted, smiling a bit. Charlotte thought about it for a few seconds before nodding thoughtfully in return, passing the ball back to him. The young man smiled, letting out another content sigh. He glanced up from his hands when he heard the sound of the doorknob being turned. “Speak of the devil,” Ethan joked, sitting up slightly and correcting his posture. “I think that’s him.” Charlotte giggled softly.

The young man hummed, resting the ball on the couch before reaching his phone, slipping it into his pocket. He had allowed for it to sit out of his pocket, since he was hoping Mark would text him, but it was obvious that the man was home now. Ethan smiled contently, his heart beating steadily as he heard the door unlock. He glanced up from his hands again, a comforting feeling washing over him as the door opened. However, his heart sunk when he was met with Mark standing on the other side, his eyes obviously swollen, as if he had been crying. Luckily, Charlotte hadn’t turned around yet, and was still occupied with the ball that she was holding in her hands, tossing it carefully to herself. Ethan’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to think of something to say, watching as the older man’s grip loosened on his briefcase, weakly allowing it to drop to the floor. His bottom lip was quivering, curling up slightly like he was about to break out into a sobbing mess again. “Charlotte, why don’t you take your stuffed animals and the ball to your room, okay?” Ethan asked quickly, giving a weak smile as he gestured his head to the hallway. “Me and your daddy are gonna have a grown-up conversation.”

Charlotte nodded her head, reaching for one of her stuffed animals and one of her balls, not questioning anything as she picked herself up off of the carpet. Ethan gave a simple nod of his head, watching as she turned to go, his gaze quickly returning to the older man as he closed the door behind him, just standing there weakly. “Mark, what happened?” He breathed out softly, his voice getting caught in his throat as he stood up from the ground. Mark didn’t say anything, his gaze lingering on the wall on the opposite side of the room, obviously caught up in his own thoughts…as if he was still processing something. “Mark, talk to me. What happened? Are you hurt? Why didn’t you text me?” Ethan walked over, kicking the briefcase aside with his foot before he attempted to get the older man to look him in the eye. “What _happened_?” He repeated softly, his voice coming off in a soft whisper in any attempts to get Mark to start paying attention. Ethan sucked in a soft breath as he watched the older man’s eyes focus again, his pupils constricting before dilating again as he looked down at the young man. God, his eyes were absolutely bloodshot, the aftermath of tears pooling above his cheekbone.

Within a second, Ethan found Mark leaning forward, wrapping him in a hug. The young man stood there for a few seconds, having absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do, Mark’s hands traveling to his back and balling the fabric of his shirt up in his fists. Nevertheless, Ethan relaxed into his touch, his heart sinking in his chest as he listened to the older man let out a soft sob. It was obvious that he had started crying again, but Ethan asked nothing of him. He simply wrapped his arms around him in return, hugging him gently. It was a new feeling to feel the older man shuddered against him…Ethan had never seen him this vulnerable or willing to cry around him. It was beyond confusing, of course, and Ethan had absolutely no idea what to do…but he just let it all happen. 

“It’s ruined…” was all Mark choked out. 

“What’s ruined?” Ethan whispered in return. He listened as the older man sucked in a soft breath, almost as if he was going to answer, but any words he was about to utter was simply replaced by another sob. The young man could only pray that Charlotte couldn’t hear what was happening in the living room. Telling a child that adults needed to talk would be enough to coax them into their bedroom, sure, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop them from listening. Nevertheless, Ethan felt as Mark pulled away from him, tears stinging his cheeks as they had before. “Mark…” Ethan whispered softly. “What’s ruined?” He repeated. He would pry every answer out of Mark if he needed to. His friend _obviously_ wasn’t alright.

Mark simply shook his head, but not because he didn’t want to answer. It was almost out of disbelief. Ethan felt the older man push past him, causing the young to glance over his left shoulder, his gaze lingering on him as he walked to the couch, falling back on it helplessly. Ethan stood where he was for a few seconds before he reluctantly turned on his heels, walking over to join him. “Do you want me to go?” He whispered softly, biting his lip; he was hesitant to sit down beside his friend. “I get it if you wanna be alone right now…I promise I’ll eat something when I get back. This isn’t some pathetic excuse to get out of dinner, I swear.” The man looked up at him, his eyes pleading.

“Please don’t go…” he breathed out. Ethan’s heart shuttered. Mark’s eyes were wide, pooling with tears. “I don’t wanna be alone…”

Ethan gave a small nod of his head. He slowly sat down beside his friend, letting out a soft breath. “What happened, Mark?” He questioned softly, simply confused by what was happening. His heart sunk in his chest. “Did you get fired?” Ethan asked.

Mark managed to give a weak smile from the comment. “No,” he returned softly. “I guess it’s not…not _that_ bad…” his voice trailed off again, his eyes lingering on the floor before he wiped his face free of tears with the back of his hand, sniffling afterward. “He…he broke a promise…” was all the man whispered. Ethan cocked his eyebrow, not sure what he was supposed to take of the confusing statement, but he didn’t ask any questions about who ‘he’ was, or what the promise was, or why it had been broken, or if it was important. No. Ethan simply kept his mouth shut. “My buh-boss… _puh-promised_ I was the only wuh-one presenting on Friday…” the man continued, sniffling a bit. “Buh-but…now someone else is…” his voice trailed off before his eyes started watering again. Ethan’s looked down at his hands, not really knowing what to do. “I’m nuh-not gonna…not gonna get it…”

“Don’t say that…” Ethan breathed out. 

“I’m not gonna…” Mark insisted, his eyes watering again. The young man watched helplessly as the older propped his elbows on his knees, burying his eyes in his hands and letting out another choked sob. Ethan sat there weakly, hardly knowing what he was supposed to do. He had never been in a position like this before…he hardly knew how to help. All he could do was sit and watch his friend fall apart, obviously troubled by the entire situation, considering it had driven him to tears. “I’m a huh _-horrible_ father…” his voice was so… _broken_. So genuine, as if he believed every single word he uttered. Ethan’s bottom lip curled slightly from the sentence.

“Mark, you’re a wonderful father…” Ethan whispered. Mark was now resting his elbows on his knees, same as before, but he was leaning forward, simply looking down at the ground as he cried. The young man watched as tears rolled down to his nose, lingering for a few seconds before reluctantly dropping to the floor. “Everything…everything you do is for Charlotte. She was asking about you all day today, uh-about how she wanted to show you a drawing she had made for you.”

“And I wasn’t here…” he breathed out.

“You were working,” Ethan reassured him.

“Obviously not huh-hard enough, cause I still cah-can’t seem to get a pruh-promotion,” Mark managed, sighing softly. Ethan sat there for a few seconds before leaning over, pressing himself up against the older man’s side and resting his head on his shoulder. “You…you can go if you’d luh-like,” the man whispered, almost as if he was embarrassed. “I’ll be fine…”

“No you won’t,” Ethan whispered. “This is what friends are for, right?”

Mark glanced down at him, Ethan looking back up. Their eyes met, and the world fell silent. The moment didn’t need words. Between their gaze, instead of sharing sentences, they had shared emotions. Trust… _truth_ …appreciation. One listed right after the other…and one that Ethan had never seen before. Nevertheless, Mark gave a weak smile, a small nod of his head. “Yeah…” he whispered. “Yeah, you’re right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to make this one a little bit angsty, and add a LIL something special at the end. I genuinely do feel bad for Mark in this chapter, though. 
> 
> Anyway...I am *very* proud to announce the future title, as well as summary, for my upcoming fanfiction (set to release as soon as Baby of Mine is finished). Don’t worry, I’m in no rush to complete Baby of Mine, but I just wanted to spill some new information instead of the same old shit lol.
> 
> ∞§—————§∞
> 
> The title for my next upcoming fanfiction is “Be My Redeemer”, which I will suppose will make a bit more sense when you read the fic.
> 
> ∞§—————§∞
> 
> Anyways, here is the summary:
> 
> Ethan Nestor, the eighteen-year-old male from District 8 who thought he would get lucky, has just been reaped into the 23rd Annual Hunger Games.
> 
> Mark Fischbach, the capitol designer with a broken and shameful past, has never cared about ant of the tributes he’s designed for.
> 
> However, after a night alone before the games, when vulnerability is swept off the table, Ethan and Mark will both learn that some things are worth fighting for.
> 
> ∞§—————§∞
> 
> So…what do you think? Lol. I am personally so excited to write this, but before I get through with my excitement I just wanna put a warning on it for right now. The fanfiction will include depictions of major original character deaths, most of which will be children. Descriptive deaths, explicit sexual content, and murder are all things you’re gonna have to look out for. I’m sure no one expected anything less, but I didn’t wanna censor my writing <3
> 
> Anyways, thank you guys so much for all the support on Baby of Mine. I love seeing so many familiar faces in the comments, lol. I hope you guys are doing well!
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Thank you,  
> Simply  
> [P.S]  
> I have a question. When Unus Annus ends, am I allowed to write fanfics based on the characters? Like, none of the video content would be mentioned, obviously, nothing would be reposted...but just Unus and Annus in general? Just curious, lol  
> ALSO, shout out to everyone literally writing paragraph essays in the comments because that genuinely makes my day and I'm so glad you guys are analyzing the plot, the characters, and generally just showing appreciation <3


	25. Something About You...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, maybe I did you guys a little dirty with the last chapter. It was more than just a ‘little’ angst, lol. I’m back, though, and I can say now that this chapter was SOOO fun for me to write. If you didn’t know, I usually take a break day after I finish a chapter, where I don’t jump back into writing. So, this chapter only took me a day to write, but I hope it’s just as good as the rest.
> 
> Also, thank you guys so much for 500 Kudos! That was never something I had expected from Baby of Mine, especially since I didn’t think anyone would like reading it, but I’m so glad so many people have managed to find comfort through it. People have been telling me that they either loved binge reading it, or re-reading it, showing it to friends…and I literally can’t thank you enough. That was never anything I had expected, but I’m so glad that many of you come back so frequently for new chapters.

Mark sighed softly, reluctantly taking another bite of his food, chewing slowly because he wasn’t really focused on eating. He was focused on everything that had happened at work, still trying to comprehend everything that had happened. Part of the man still couldn’t believe it…after all, it had happened so quickly. If he had walked just slightly faster, Mark would never have even known that Joseph was interested in the promotion as well, or that he had been offered the job from Eric. Sure, the man supposed that he would have learned eventually, considering how Joseph had been actively _looking_ to tell him, insisting that it was simply to learn whether or not they would be collaborating, but Mark felt as if it was simply just to rub things in slightly deeper. Just a bit of salt in the wound…lemon juice being squeezed into a fresh paper cut. He assumed that it was just Joseph’s way of informing him that he was competitions, and that his co-worker wouldn’t just be stepping aside at the thought of a promotion, even though he hadn’t even been there for a complete month…just his way of cockily mentioning that he was better. Maybe it wasn’t like that, of course, but that was the only way that Mark’s mind seemed to wander.

God, the man hoped that the promotion wouldn’t be given to Joseph. The man hadn’t even been there a month…he didn’t _deserve_ it. He didn’t know the company like the back of his hand, as Mark did. After all…Joseph hadn’t _been there_ for as long as Mark had. Joseph hadn’t experienced the pain of waiting for a promotion month after month, year after year, watching as it was passed to someone else; watching as every single possible pay raise was just tossed aside to the point where he could only believe that they _purposely_ didn’t want him to succeed; the young man, most likely fresh out of business school, had never experienced the feeling of _longing_ for the promotion for yet another month, as if he hadn’t learned his lesson the first time. As if he didn’t already know that the company would try to screw him over week after week, assignment after assignment, passed promotion after passed promotion. Joseph didn’t _know_ any of that…and part of Mark believed that the young man never would, because he knew that every younger man working in the industry had the company wrapped around their finger.

The worst part of it all was the fact that Eric had _promised him_ …God, Mark had been so persistent with the question when his boss had told him the news. Beyond overjoyed, the only thing Mark wanted to know was if the opportunity had been passed along to anyone else as well, just so he wouldn’t get his hopes up…just so he could focus on his PowerPoint presentation without worrying about anyone else who would be aiming for the same opportunity. He had questioned him so genuinely…his eyes hopeful and yearning…and Eric had answered; he had answered with no. He had _promised_ Mark that he was the only one, and that was the thing that was eating away at him. The fact that he had lied. Sure, he supposed that telling the truth never got anyone anywhere in the industry…but Mark could hardly understand why Eric hadn’t just _told him_ …how he had just informed Joseph on the ideas he was making, giving him a special opportunity without even letting his other employee know. It was painfully unfair, Mark knew that well enough, to the point where part of him couldn’t even _think_ about it without getting angry. It was… _bullshit_. Mark hadn’t known what he had expected when Eric had made the promise, and he felt beyond foolish knowing that he had just been so blind to believe him…to believe _everything_. He had been so naive to just listen to everything that Eric said, nodding his head happily as he spoke, leaving with a grin on his face.

Mark wondered how long Eric had kept that information to himself…how long his boss had known that he would be offering practically the same opportunity to someone else. Had he known when he was speaking to Mark? Had Eric truly known that he would simply turn around on his heels and offer the same thing to Joseph, promising him a similar opportunity…not even thinking to _tell_ Mark about what he had done? It was out of his hands, of course…it wasn’t like he could go bitching off to his boss about how he should have told him, or how he deserved it more, or how the older man had been _awful_ for just keeping such information from him. No, he couldn’t. Mark would get fired on the spot, of course; and, if he didn’t get fired, it was obvious that he wouldn’t be welcomed to present at the meeting…and the promotion would most likely be offered to Joseph with the snap of Eric’s fingers, helping him win by default. At that point, Mark wasn’t even sure if Eric had actually wanted to help him in the first place…part of him believed that his boss didn’t really give a shit about what happened to him, or how anything affected him. Why he wanted to help Joseph, of course, was beyond Mark’s understanding. After all, picking favorites was one thing…but picking someone who hadn’t even been there that long as a favorite didn’t even seem like a logical decision. It surely wasn’t something that could possibly benefit the company, or something that would affect _Eric_. Part of it seemed like it was done out of random…just for the sake of it.

For once, everything had actually seemed like it was going his way. For a week, the man had been able to romanticize the thought of a promotion as he piled together his PowerPoint presentation, a steady beating in his heart, and a visible smile on his face. Being able to think about actually getting an office of his own…taking on new responsibilities and being able to make the people he worked for proud. It was more than enough to keep Mark determined as he filled in the statistics on what he was presenting, imagining himself being able to present in front of _Eric’s_ boss…daydreaming about the way the older man would smile at him in disbelief, obviously filled with a curious intrigue, wondering _how_ he had allowed for Mark to go overlooked for so long. Of course…that didn’t seem like that would be the case anymore; the man wasn’t even certain that it had _ever_ been the case. All of it was just in his head, every single bit of it. With gaining new knowledge about who else would be present there at the meeting…it meant his confidence seemingly lacking. He no longer felt as firmly encouraged to bother _fixing up_ his PowerPoint presentation in the first place…what did it even matter? It _didn’t_. None of it did. Not anymore at least. Maybe it did, and as much as he wanted to assure Ethan that he was alright…it just felt so _phony_. He knew his friend was just trying his best to help of course, but simply patting someone on the shoulder and repeating that everything would be okay…it wasn’t enough.

Mark found himself slipping back into that same painful feeling that he had experienced the following week of Kaitlyn breaking up with him…the suffocating feeling of his stomach churning and his heart sinking lowly in his chest; just wanting to do nothing else but lay in bed, holding a pillow and trying not to _scream_. It was all too familiar, of course, and the man wasn’t even sure that he would be able to bottle everything up this time around…not if life kept continuing into a downward spiral. He wouldn’t know what he would do with himself if he didn’t get the promotion…if his job just stayed the same _forever_. No raise, no promotions, no new opportunities except for being stuck behind a fucking _cubicle desk_ for the rest of his life…the thought was tormenting. Mark wasn’t even it for the money, either. He was in it because he needed to provide for his daughter, and he wanted to experience something that he originally _thought_ would be beneficial. Now, it seemed as if he would _never_ be able to reach what he had once wished for…it seemed as if Mark would just be repeating the same day over and over, nothing new, nothing interesting, nothing _worthwhile_. It was enough to break his heart when he thought about it. He didn’t want going to work to have to be _punishing_ , but now it seemed to be the only way the man could describe it. 

Mark had pulled on a smile, of course, when Charlotte came out of her room for dinner. He insisted that he was alright, crouching down so he could give his daughter a hug. Ethan had simply stood beside him, a comforting hand on his shoulder as he whispered once more that everything would be alright before eventually dropping the conversation, obviously picking up that it wasn’t something the man wanted being mentioned around his daughter. Mark could only thank him for that…for being able to read the room. And, just like that, Ethan hadn’t mentioned it any further. The man had allowed himself to push away every negative thought, biting his tongue as he got dinner ready. The young man, of course, had sat on the couch with Charlotte, cracking a soft occasional joke that Mark could hear from the kitchen, as well as explaining random subjects to her. That had been enough to make the man smile, of course…getting dinner ready and be able to listen to the gentle way Ethan spoke to his daughter. Despite all of the ridiculous, and quite frankly stupid, questions she asked…he answered as if they were reporter-worthy interrogations…as if they needed to be replied to with utmost importance. The young girl would ask what the stars looked like, since she had never actually seen any throughout her entire life, or what a forest was like. Such questions that seemed so familiar to adults…but were foreign for children who had been raised in the city.

Ethan had answered them all truthfully, of course, explaining that the bright lights from the city made the stars hard to see. The man had appreciated, however, when when the young brunette mentioned how the lights of the city were just as good as the stars…that the illuminated rooms of skyscrapers were just as beautiful of a sight. It was enough to make Mark smile, even if it was slightly. He himself had almost forgotten what the stars had looked like…he had lived in the city with his girlfriend for so long, he was simply immune to a sky void of stars. Charlotte had simply chirped in return that she had always wanted to see the stars, while the young man had reminded her that she would be able to someday. It always comforted Mark how good Ethan was with his daughter…he was better than Kaitlyn had ever been, and that was almost something that had frightened him and amazed him at the same time. How someone who wasn’t even _related_ to her could care about her so much… _genuinely_. Not just because he was getting paid, or because it was his job…but because he actually seemed to care about the wellbeing of Charlotte. He could only assume that Ethan would be a wonderful parent himself when he was older and met someone special. Mark had simply stood in the kitchen, though, finding himself infatuated with the conversation…infatuated with Ethan as he spoke. Just standing there in the kitchen, his elbow rested on the table as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand, listening silently for a few seconds. Of course, once he had realized that he had more important things to be doing, he had swept himself back into cooking.

It was nice, though…being able to have someone like Ethan around the apartment, even after he was finished babysitting Charlotte. Being able to share a conversation at dinner with him was wonderful…it was something he could get used to. After all, although he knew the only reason the young man was there was because Mark insisted he stay to get better…part of it just felt like it was more than something forced. At least, well…Mark liked to _think_ so. It was nice having a friend around…someone who he could just _talk to_ or message about anything. It was a new feeling that the man couldn’t quite explain, but he could only assume it was because he had been without it since college. Nevertheless, he enjoyed every second of it…allowing himself to give a genuine smile when he was around him. And when Mark had hugged him…just allowing himself to fall into his arms, feeling as if he could never let go…part of him didn’t _want_ to let go. Part of the man had just wanted to stay like that forever, getting lost in the feeling of Ethan’s arms loosely around his shoulders. However, after a reluctant shuddering breath and a flutter in his heart, Mark had allowed himself to pull away. And God, when Ethan had looked at him when he was on the couch…the man couldn’t even _describe_ how he felt…part of it was familiar though. No one had really _looked_ at him like that in years, so he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Mark, are you okay?” The man heard Ethan question. He glanced to his left slightly, blinking as he felt himself being pulled from the daze he had been in. The young man cleared his throat. “Sorry, you were just staring down at your plate for a while. Just making sure you’re okay.” He gave a half-smile, awkwardly relaxing into his chair. 

“I’m alright,” Mark returned, giving a simple nod of his head. Ethan reached over, taking another sip of his water. The man averted his eyes to Ethan’s plate, presently surprised when he realized that there was food missing. Just a bit, of course, he had _hardly_ eaten anything…but the fact of the matter was that Mark hadn’t even had to ask him. He didn’t have to press him, or pressure him, or ask him time and time again to eat something off of his plate; no. For the first time, Ethan had managed to do it on his own, and that was something that made Mark surprisingly proud. A genuine smile, although small, spread across his lips as he looked back at the young man, noticing how Ethan returned a sheepish gaze. “You did it…” he mentioned softly, his voice in a whisper as he gestured his hand over to the young man’s plate. He glanced from the plate back to Ethan, noticing how the man shrugged his shoulders in return. “That’s _wonderful,_ ” he explained.

“You think so?” Ethan asked, shifting slightly in his chair as he looked down at his plate. “I mean…I guess. Kinda. Sorta…not _really_.” Mark gave a sympathetic smile. He knew well enough what the younger man was thinking. He was thinking about how it was something that anyone else could do...something that _Charlotte_ …a _child_ could do. Something that everyone had become accustomed to throughout their entire life, to the point where Ethan would even refuse to accept the fact that what he had done was a _true_ accomplishment. The sooner Ethan accepted he was different…the more he would learn to appreciate every small milestone that he passed. After all, Ethan certainly hadn’t been willing to do that a few days ago. Instead, he had pushed food around on his plate, drinking water as if Mark wouldn't actually notice that he was purposely avoiding eating. Ethan shifted again, fiddling with his fork as he pushed it around beside his plate, humming softly underneath his breath. Nevertheless, Mark smiled.

“I do think so,” the man confirmed. Ethan glanced up at him, his eyes flickering slightly before they quickly returned to his fork. The young man swallowed thickly, clearing his throat and refusing to make eye contact. “You know why?” Ethan pursed his lips slightly, his gaze continuing to liger on the table, although he gave a small shake of his head after a few seconds; at least he was acknowledging the question. “Because you weren’t able to do that a few days ago. A few days ago, you wouldn’t have even _tried_ to eat something on your own.” He kept his voice low, since Charlotte was still at the table. “That’s how I know…so surely you must be able to realize how every milestone, no matter how seemingly unimportant, is still an accomplishment…and it’s still something that should be recognized.” Ethan sucked in a soft breath, clearing his throat before reaching for a cup of water. “You alright?” Mark questioned.

“Fine,” Ethan returned, giving a weak smile as he looked up from his hands. The man looked at him blankly in return. “I’m doing fine.” Mark gave a small nod in return, noticing how the young man couldn’t quite hold eye contact for that long before he was reluctantly glancing away at either the table or one of the far walls of the apartment, obviously something on his mind. Mark’s gaze lingered on him, though, a persistent feeling churning in his stomach, although it was a good feeling. Mark was the one to clear his throat this time, glancing back down to his plate before he continued eating. He glanced at Charlotte out of the corner of his eye, smiling softly as she finished the food on her plate.

“Done!” Charlotte announced proudly.

“You’re done, huh?” Ethan questioned softly, a gentle smile spread across his face as he diverted his attention to the young girl. Mark focused his attention to him, a comforting feeling washing over him as he listened to Ethan speak to his daughter. He appreciated it. The young man’s voice was gentle… _kind_. The man could see his daughter nodded happily out of the corner of his eye, but he just fixed his attention on Ethan. “Well, how about you help your daddy out by putting your dishes in the sink, hm?” Charlotte nodded once again. “And then you can get washed up, and I’ll come and say goodnight to you before I leave. How does that sound?”

“Good,” the young girl confirmed.

“Good,” Ethan repeated.

His daughter giggled as she slipped out of her chair, reaching up for her plate. Ethan smiled gently, his gaze lingering on her as he watched her toddle over to the sink, standing on her toes s she would be able to rest it gently in the sink. “Good job,” the young man praised, an attesting smile on his face before he nodded his head off toward the hallway. “When I finish eating, I’ll come right over. I promise. And what did your daddy tell you about promises?” Mark’s heart fluttered.

“You don’t break ‘em,” Charlotte returned.

“That’s right,” Ethan replied in confirmation, nodding his head. He watched as the young girl turned on her heels, toddling down the hall. Mark kept his eyes on him, a smile almost out of disbelief spread across his face. The young man took a reluctant bite of food before eventually returning Mark's gaze, his pupils dilating ever so slightly when he noticed that the older man was looking back at him. “What're you looking at me like that for…?” The brunette whispered, his voice soft as it trailed off. Mark swallowed thickly, shifting in his chair.

“I dunno,” he admitted. “I’ve just never really seen someone…know what they’re doing around Charlotte; care about her like that, and all.” Ethan gave a shy smile, accepting the compliment. “You’re really good with her, you know? You talk to her like she’s a person, instead of babying her constantly, but you’re really good at doing that when you need to. I mean, I know that you’re getting paid and everything, and that it’s your _job_ to do it…but you really do seem to care. I’ve never seen that in any of the other people who would watch her at daycare. Charlotte never talked about them, or how they had been nice…but all she wanted to do was talk about you the second you started looking after her.” The older man gave a pause. “You’re better at looking after her than my girlfriend ever was,” he admitted, noticing how Ethan’s eyes flickered ever so slightly. “So…thank you for that.”

“Of course,” Ethan murmured, looking down at his hands again before shrugging his shoulders. “She’s a really good kid…she obviously takes after her dad.” Mark couldn’t help but chuckle softly from the comment, shifting in his chair. “You’re a better influence than you think, Mark. She might talk about me a lot when I’m not here…but all she talks about is you when you’re not at the house. How you’re perfect at everything…how you always know how to make her laugh. You’re a _great_ fucking dad, Mark. Like, I’m serious. So don’t…don’t beat yourself up over stuff that you can’t control, because your daughter likes you the way you are. She doesn’t care about fancy promotions or the fact that you’re gone during the day. Charlotte doesn’t mind…as long as you come home at the end of the day, she’s happy, so I wouldn’t worry about anything.” Mark thought about what the younger man said for a few seconds, pursing his lips slightly. “And, if you’re _going_ to worry about it…do something about it. Make the best PowerPoint presentation ever, and show that… _douche_ that you’re better than him.” The brunette looked up from his hands again, staring back at Mark. 

“Thanks for the pep-talk,” Mark whispered, a gentle smile visible on his face.

“Of course,” the man returned, as if it was the simplest thing. It really wasn’t though. It was really one of the kindest things that anyone had ever said to him…Ethan was one of the _only_ people who had managed to touch his life in a positive way. As much as he liked to believe that his girlfriend had done the same, he knew well enough that their relationship had only ended in heartbreak…so it didn’t count. Nevertheless, Mark knew that he wouldn’t take it for granted. Being with Kaitlyn had given him Charlotte, and that was never something he would just wish away. But, Ethan being kind to him…well, it was nice. Having a friendship with someone who seemed to genuinely care about him was an experience that Mark hadn’t gone through since college…God, he couldn’t believe how he had managed to live so long without it. How he had managed to live without being able to text someone during the middle of the night just to talk about nothing of importance, or to ask for a hug when he needed one, or someone who he could quite literally feel comfortable crying in front of. Ethan was the only person in his life that was like that, as frightening as it was to admit. “Someone’s gotta do it around here. I mean, if you won’t, I will.”

Mark rolled his eyes dramatically, 

Ethan smiled a bit in return, looking back down at his plate. The man remained quiet as he watched his friend, shifting slightly in his chair as his gaze continued to linger. There was just something about the young man that made him so… _curious_. Mark didn’t even know if that was the right word to describe it, but it was the first thing that came to mind. The way Ethan was around kids…the way everything he said was more than enough to make the man smile…the fact that he could act so naturally kind around people, but be so troubled in his own personal life. It was one of the many things that Mark admired around him. His gaze persisted, watching as Ethan took a smile bite of his food, chewing as he looked down at his hands. Mark noticed how the younger man glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, shifting in his seat with discomfort. “Please don’t look at me,” he whispered, almost shamefully. 

“I’m not thinking about you eating, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Mark returned.

“Then what are you thinking about?” The young man murmured, turning to face Mark again. The man simply sat there, dumbfounded before he shrugged his shoulders. “Just…please don’t.”

“I won’t,” Mark assured him. He blinked simply before finally pulling his gaze away, looking down at his own plate of food before he continued eating. He didn’t know why he was taking forever…but he was. Nevertheless, there was a silence between the two of them that lasted for another few minutes, none of them really finding the room to speak. Ethan would glance over occasionally, just to make sure that the older man wasn’t looking at him, but that would be about it. “I’m proud of you, you know,” Mark spoke finally, although he didn’t glance at his friend. “A week ago…you wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Thanks,” Ethan managed, although it didn’t seem completely genuine.

“I’m serious,” the man returned. 

“I just don’t see why you’re so proud of something so…insignificant,” the brunette admitted, shrugging afterward. Mark waited for him to continue. “I get it, I guess,” Ethan continued, his voice trailing off. “This is new…the whole… _eating_ in front of people thing. But…it’s nothing that should be praised. I should have been doing this for a while now. I mean, hell, even Charlotte can do it. She’s been doing it for years now just the same, and you shouldn’t feel the need to praise me when I do something that I should have been doing for the past…God, ever since I started doing this. And I know what you’re going to say…because I’m _different_. I get it. I _am_ different, and I relearn things differently…but don’t act like this is just some big accomplishment, because it isn’t. It’s…it’s stupid that I need to go through all of this again.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being different,” Mark mentioned, 

“There is when being different means people feel the need to baby you,” the young man murmured. Mark swallowed thickly, allowing himself to correct his posture as he straightened up in the chair. The both of them were silent for a few seconds, a heavy pause filling the air, one that both men were too afraid to break. Reluctantly, of course, after a few seconds, Mark decided to continue.

“You think I’m babying you?” He questioned, his voice genuine.

“No,” Ethan admitted softly. It seemed as if he didn’t know what else to say. “No…I don’t think you’re babying me. It’s just…forget about it. Forget I said anything.” Mark gave a reassuring smile. Although he wanted to know more, he knew well enough that pressing his friend for answers wouldn’t be the way to get information. Yes, he wanted to know what was troubling Ethan, and how he could help…but it didn’t seem like now was the time for that. Instead, he simply watched as the young man glanced away, obviously finished with the conversation. Mark allowed it to happen, of course, saying nothing more. “You really think I’m getting better?” Was all he could manage after another minute, finally breaking the short silence as he glanced back over to Mark. The man looked up from his plate, cocking his eyebrow before he realized his friend was referring to the previous conversation. 

“Yeah,” Mark confirmed, a justified nod of his head following. “I think you’re getting a lot better. I think you’re gonna be completely better, though. I don’t know if it’ll be soon, and I can’t promise you anything…but I think all of this will be something you look back on with confusion. One of those moments that just clicks in the back of your head when you try to fall asleep…and you’ll just cringe and move past it.” Ethan gave a half-smile, letting out a soft giggle before shrugging his shoulders. 

“Well… _thank you_ ,” the young brunette returned finally, leaning back in his chair. Mark glanced to Ethan’s plate. Everything was finished. Sure, the young man didn’t really take an averaged sized portion, but Mark was proud of him nevertheless. He couldn’t help but smile as he looked back up at his friend, who returned with a shy expression. “For… _everything_ really. I mean, letting me stay for dinner and all. You’re…you’re a really good friend, Mark.” Ethan’s eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“I can say the same about you,” Mark replied. “Friends help friends, right?”

Ethan was silent for a few seconds, shifting in his seat before he eventually replied. “Yeah,” he confirmed, clearing his throat. “Friends help friends.” After another few seconds, he slipped out of his chair, reaching for his plate before moving to the sink. Mark caught another glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye, smiling softly to himself before taking a sip of water, finishing the glass. He really didn’t know what was wrong with him…why he was _thinking_ about Ethan so much. At work, at home, even when the man was in the same _room_ as him. Mark didn’t understand. Nevertheless, he said nothing as he got out of his seat as well to help the younger man. Ethan smiled, shifting to the side so there was enough room for Mark to stand by him at the sink. “I’m just gonna say goodnight to Charlotte before I head out,” Ethan stated, humming underneath his breath as he reached for the kitchen towel to dry his plate, eventually reaching up to stack it with the others. 

“I might as well do it at the same time,” Mark admitted. Ethan smiled, nodding as he shifted to the side. The older man finished cleaning his plate, putting it up with the rest of them. “So, what did you two do today while I was at work?” He questioned, turning on his heels as he leaned back against the counter. Ethan hummed softly, thinking for a few seconds.

“I tried teaching her how to play chess,” Ethan admitted. Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. The statement was something normal, but it sounded absurd, especially considering she was a child. “I found it in the closet, so I thought ‘hey, why not?’. I mean, she’s okay at it…when I’m telling her where to move her pieces.” He giggled softly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Mark smiled a bit from his soft laughter. It was oddly adorable, although it wasn’t anything that the man had focused on until that point. “Maybe you and I could play sometimes. I’m pretty good at it, you know. I let Charlotte win only because she’s little.”

“ _Sure_ ,” Mark teased.

“It’s true!” The young man giggled. Goddamnit, that laugh again. Mark was absolutely _infatuated_ with it, and he didn’t even understand why. He smiled after a few seconds. “Wanna go say goodnight to Charlotte now?” He questioned. Mark nodded his head eagerly in return, shifting over to stand near Ethan before the two of them walked through the hallway. The man hummed underneath his breath, not saying anything as he followed his friend’s lead. He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, giving a soft smile. Ethan was absolutely enthralling, and Mark really couldn’t comprehend why. It was…never really something that the man had noticed before; nothing he had really thought about paying attention to. It had just never caught his consciousness until that point. Ethan glanced back at him, smiling shyly. “What?” He asked softly.

“Nothing,” Mark returned simply, smiling a bit. “Just staring off into space.” Ethan nodded in return, reaching for his wrist before tugging him into his daughter’s bedroom. The man stumbled in after him, chuckling softly as he stood beside him. Charlotte giggled softly, still sitting on top of her covers because she wanted to be tucked in by her father. The man stood there, smiling a bit. Ethan let go of his wrist, walking her carefully to sit at the edge of the young girl’s bed. “Alrighty, Charlotte, I think it’s time for bed,” he mentioned, walking over to kneel by the edge of the bed. 

“Okay,” she hummed softly, pushing the covers forward slightly so she could slip underneath them, although it draped over her legs. Mark chuckled softly, carefully pulling the blankets up to his daughter’s shoulders, watching as she smiled contently in return. The man glanced back at Ethan, watching how he wore a similar smile, his gaze fixed on the young girl. Mark turned back to Charlotte, leaning over carefully to press a gentle kiss against her forehead. She squealed happily, giggling for a few seconds afterward.

“Cutie,” Mark cooed softly, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. She yawned softly, trying to keep her eyes open so she could continue looking up at him. 

“You got a big day tomorrow,” Ethan mentioned thoughtfully. Mark glanced back at him. “I’m gonna take you ice skating tomorrow afternoon. How does that sound?” The young girl’s eyes lit up happily in return. Mark’s heart fluttered from the way the young man smiled, and he didn’t even know why. It was just a stomach-churning feeling, so the man quickly turned his head away, sucking in a soft breath before quickly exhaling. “One of these days the three of us should go back to the ice skating rink. I would _love_ to see you skating again, Mark.” The young man giggled softly, shifting on Charlotte’s bed. Mark smiled shyly in return, giving a small nod of his head. 

“I should get going,” Ethan continued softly, carefully standing up from the bed. “It’s getting late and all. Plus, I should be well-rested so I can be the best skater in the world tomorrow.” Mark rolled his eyes playfully, not surprised by the comment. He glanced back over to his daughter, noticing how her eyes were closed at that point. He gently brushed her hair back before crawling to his feet. 

“I’ll see you out,” Mark returned.

“Such a gentleman,” Ethan scoffed playfully, although he gave a sheepish smile from the comment. Mark walked after the young man, carefully glancing back into his daughter’s bedroom, just making sure the nightlight was on. Sure enough, it was. He closed the door carefully, smiling a bit as he listened to Ethan stumbling over himself after sliding down the hallway on his socks. “Don’t worry, I’m fine,” he mentioned quickly. Mark glanced over his left shoulder, grinning when he noticed his friend on the floor, quickly pulling himself to his feet. “Thanks for everything again. Uh, the job…dinner…you’re kind of my backbone in life right now, I’m gonna be honest. Like…I don’t even know what I would do without you.” He paused. “Sorry, is that weird? Did I make it weird?” Mark couldn’t help but chuckle softly as the man rambled on. “You get what I’m saying though, right? Cause like, I work for you, that’s how I get paid. And you’re nice enough to let me stay for dinner, and to help me through my…problem.” He gave a weak, awkward smile.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Mark replied, giving a gentle smile. He walked carefully down the hallway, now finding himself standing beside his friend. He saved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s not weird, I promise. It’s a nice statement, honest.” Ethan gave a shy smile, followed by a quick nod of his head as he quickly looked down at his feet, refusing to meet his gaze. “I guess I have the same to say for you. I mean, you’re really the only friend I have, as depressing as that sounds. You’re just…the person I turn to when I need help, you know?” Ethan didn’t look up from his feet. “I guess we’re both each other’s backbone, huh?”

“Ironic, isn’t it?” Ethan asked, finally looking up from his feet. His cheeks were flush. “How we can both easily just help each other, but not ourselves?” Mark let out a soft huff of laughter with agreement. He supposed his friend was right. “Well…I really should be going,” he continued, gesturing his head over to the door. “I mean, I guess I’m not really in a rush. I guess I’ve already eaten dinner.” Ethan gave an awkward laugh. “Thanks again, by the way.”

“No problem,” Mark replied. The man watched as Ethan gave a friendly half wave, as if to symbolize he was leaving, and part of Mark just panicked. He didn’t even know why, but the next thing he knew he was leaning forward and wrapping the younger man in a hug. He could feel Ethan tense up against him, obviously filled with the discomfort for a few seconds, before he eventually relaxed into his touch. Mark let out a content sigh. “Sorry…just needed a hug,” he whispered softly, carefully resting his chin on Ethan’s shoulder. The man smiled softly as Ethan’s arms hooked over his shoulders, hugging him back.

“It’s okay…” Ethan whispered. “I needed one too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you can see...the tides are starting to turn. Just slightly, I want to make it a gradual discovery between the two, but I nkew that I had to start adding a little something. What do you guys think, lol? 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, especially the dialogue and the little gestures, and it surprisingly didn't take me that long. Granted, it's only six thousand words and not the length of the previous chapters, but I'm proud of it nonetheless.
> 
> Thank you guys again for all of your support on Baby of Mine!! 
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Thank you guys so much,  
> Simply!
> 
> [P.S]  
> Okay, I have a question:  
> What is your favorite chapter in Baby of Mine so far, and why?


	26. The World Fell Silent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To any of you guys who liked the ice skating chapter…this one is for you, lmfao.  
> Also, before I start, thank you guys for nine thousand hits! That’s honestly more than I ever could have expected, and I certainly didn’t think we would reach it, lol. This fic has helped me pass a lot of milestones, so I’m glad you guys like it.
> 
> I also got a little carried away with the wordcount again, but it’s whatever. I hope you guys like it!

Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, standing outside of his friend’s apartment door after knocking gently. It was a new day, as usual, and he was there to look after Charlotte. He hummed softly, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. The brunette was taking the young girl ice skating that day. After all, it was something that she had appreciated doing for their first outing, when it was made official that Ethan would be her babysitter. Charlotte had sure seemed to like pushing herself off from the rails, trying to stop her knees from buckling as she glided across the ice. It had been humorous to watch, of course, especially since Mark had been clinging onto the edge of the rink, where gravity was threatening to send him to the ground any second when he couldn’t find his balance. It would often end in the older man having to drag himself up to the blade of his skates, only to be knocked over again when he couldn’t stand properly. It was more than entertaining, to say the least. Of course, Ethan knew well enough that Mark wouldn’t be able to join them this time. He had work to attend to, and he could only tell that everything was going to be more stressful for the older man…especially considering how there was supposedly another employee after the same promotion Mark was.

Ethan supposed it was a normal occurrence. In life, there would always be people vying for the same praise, attention, or overall advantage. Surprisingly, it wasn’t just childhood. Ethan had always assumed that when he was older…people would be more considerate of reading the room, and ‘sharing the wealth’, so to say. Children weren’t always the best at sharing things, of course, and childhood was always littered with subtle competitions. Fighting over who got to be the line leader in elementary school, or who got to stand at the front of the lunch line…always something to do with being _first_. Of course, in high school, there was always the pressure of who was going to be Valedictorian. Ethan had never really cared about that, though; he had known that his grades weren’t sufficient enough to even cast him into _consideration_ , so he didn’t bother worrying or stressing over something that wouldn’t affect me. He had just hoped that adult life would be different. It wasn’t, though. It was just the same thing…except more challenging and risky. Fighting over promotions, arguing about who had the better offer for a house payment, all while slowly being molded into the role everyone seemed to assume once they had stepped out of college. It was a lot. It was stressful…so it made perfect sense to Ethan why Mark wouldn’t be able to attend, and why his time would be best spent behind his cubicle desk, working away at whatever it was he did for a living. Ethan didn’t really know.

Either way, he also wanted to take Charlotte ice skating because it seemed as if they had all been cooped up in the apartment for too long. Since she wasn’t exactly going to daycare anymore…there wasn’t really a time where she got to regularly get outside. Ethan supposed he could start taking her to the park more often, but that would grow just as boring as sitting _inside_ if they did it so frequently. At the end of the day, though, Ethan knew it was best for the young girl to get some fresh air…and standing on the fire escape to the apartment complex didn’t count. It wasn’t the full experience of getting outside…it was basically staying _inside_ , except it was like sticking your head out the window. You didn’t really _submerge_ in anything. If getting fresh air was a test, standing out on the fire escape would certainly be cheating. It was something that the young man himself did regularly at his own apartment, though. He would often find himself leaning forward on the rusted rail, something that he would have considered a hazard if he hadn’t gotten his shots…just looking out at the city. Ethan’s apartment wasn’t that far up from the ground, but it was an experience that he found himself enjoying nevertheless.

Sometimes he would just stand out on the fire escape with a cup of coffee in his hand, leaning forward and just allowing himself to take everything in. It wasn’t frequently that he did it in the morning, since he always seemed to be in a rush…but it was something he prided himself over doing at night. Allowing himself to crouch down, sometimes leaning back on his hands and looking through the rails…looking at all of the lights that were scattered down the avenue. Just being able to catch a glimpse at the tall skyscrapers in the distance, hundreds and hundreds of windows being illuminated as employees worked later than usual, bending over backward for a paycheck as they kept the city bright and the sky void of stars. The familiar scent of car fumes and exhaust that filled the air, wafting through the breeze. It wasn’t the most pleasant of smells, of course, but it was something that Ethan had become used to during his time spent living in New York City. He had grown accustomed to it, to the point where he didn’t really seem to mind anymore. Ethan would find himself sometimes sitting on the stairs, his gaze lingering on the skyscrapers that made up the skyline, his heart longing and his mind wandering. He just felt unbelievably content when he had the time to himself, his fingers drumming against the railing as he just…daydreamed. Ethan could allow his mind to romanticize the idea of being someone important…who he could gave been if he had finished college. What his job would have been, and where he could have lived, and if he could have touched the heart of the city in any other way.

Ethan didn’t think about that much anymore. He no longer _cared_ about who he could have been, or if any of it would have even been a difference. The young man no longer imagined how… _important_ he could have been. He didn’t fantasize or humor the thought of having an office at the top of a skyscraper, a view of the city below him, and feeling like he was on top of the world…romanticizing the thought of being someone _important_. A person who others could look up to…who others could aspire to be, someone who they too could use as an example as they pursued dreams of their own. Ethan knew well enough that he couldn’t change what had happened…he couldn’t change the outcome of his education. He couldn’t send himself back to college, and he certainly had no intention of wasting his money away just to chase a dream of his that was long gone. So, Ethan would appreciate all of the little things in his life…the things that he never thought he could live with, yet had somehow managed to cherish. Being able to sit on the carpet of Mark’s apartment with Charlotte as she rambled on about nothing of importance…staying afterward for dinner with his friend…being able to watch Mark walk through the door after he was finished with work, getting almost excited as his own daughter. Just the small things that others would consider insignificant.

And it was just the fact that…none of that would have even happened if he hadn’t got kicked out of college. It was almost surreal to think about. Ethan wouldn’t be watching Charlotte…he wouldn’t be friends with Mark, and his eating disorder wouldn’t be getting better. If he hadn’t gotten kicked out of college…he never would have met Sean. He never would have become friends with him, which would mean that he never would gave been pressured into applying for the job at daycare. Of course, that only meant that Ethan would never have met Charlotte…or _Mark_. He never would have met one of his closest friends, and that was something that almost frightened him when he thought about it. Despite having been what he had considered to be a failure for most of his life…things were starting to work out. The man had finally found a purpose in his life…he _felt_ like he was important. Sure, it wasn’t the type Ethan had originally expected…the type where he would be in a skyscraper, sitting behind his desk and sorting through important documents. The type where the only person he worked for was himself…where he could be successful and well known in the business industry. But…something seemed to tell Ethan that he didn’t want that as much as he thought he did. 

One of the best parts of Ethan’s life, strange enough…was _Mark_. It was hard to explain, and thinking about it just made him feel slightly weird…but it was the truth. The older man had seemingly provided him with everything. He had a place to go that made him feel comfortable during the day…he had been granted a new friend, and a job, and someone who genuinely seemed to care about him. It was more than Ethan could have ever asked for. When he had been kicked out of college…he didn’t know what he was going to do with himself. He didn’t know if he would be able to find a job, and he certainly didn’t think he would ever amount to anything, or touch the lives of anyone. After all, Ethan knew well enough that you couldn’t make an impact on someone’s life just by being their waiter or their _bartender_. But…somehow he had managed to make an impact on Mark’s life…and the older man had been able to do the same to him. They had somehow managed to work in unison, supporting each other when they couldn’t support themselves, and that was something that Ethan couldn’t _help_ but appreciate. There was just something about the older man that was… _so_ incredibly enthralling. He didn’t know what it was, or _why_ he had just started to notice it…but he accepted it nonetheless. Ethan accepted the way he would always have a shoulder to lean on…someone who cared about his health, and someone who was always looking out for him. It was more than what he could have asked for after deciding to look after Charlotte.

Ethan straightened his posture when the door finally opened, revealing Mark standing on the other side in his usual attire; a similar cream colored button-down shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of dress pants, which draped carefully over a similar pair of mahogany socks. Charlotte had been correct in assuming that he couldn't exactly wear his rainbow socks to work. The young man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, smiling awkwardly when he noticed the older man’s crooked tie, obviously not tied correctly. Nevertheless, Mark gave a charming smile, his eyes kind as they crinkled. Ethan stood there awkwardly, swallowing thickly as he looked up at him. Why was he oddly uncomfortable? It was a new feeling, of course…not something that the young man commonly felt when he looked at his friend. Ethan didn’t understand what it meant, of course, so he ignored it. He simply cleared his throat, smiling genuinely. “Hi,” he announced happily, noticing how Mark stepped aside to let him in. “Sorry I didn’t text you earlier. My phone was dead.” Ethan gave a weak smile, carefully stepping into the apartment, allowing Mark to close the door behind him.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Mark returned, sweeping his hand through his hair. The young man’s heart shuddered, and he hardly knew why. It was just that simple move of his hand, something that he had one seemed to accustomed to. Nevertheless, he pushed the thought aside, giving a simple nod of his head. “Charlotte’s just getting dressed. She’s really excited to go ice skating.” Ethan gave a genuine smile, no longer thinking about his previous discomfort. “That’s _all_ she could talk about this morning. How she wanted to go skating with you.” 

“Aww, that’s adorable,” Ethan mentioned, smiling gently. He took another step into the apartment. “I won’t be taking her until after lunch, though. I hope she doesn’t get her hopes up too much.” Mark gave a half-smile, nodding his head. The young man crouched down, carefully untying his shoes before resting them carefully against the wall near the door. “One of these days, though, you’re gonna have to join us to go ice-skating. I mean, it’s really not the full ice-skating experience when you’re not there stumbling around on the ice, falling over constantly while insisting that you’re _so_ much better than me.” The brunette wore a familiar shit-eating grin, glancing up at his friend who simply rolled his eyes in return, letting out a soft chuckle as he rested his hands on his hips. “It’s just as good when you’re holding onto the rail and _still_ managing to fall. Hilarious. The peak of comedy.” Mark scoffed playfully, almost as if he had no idea what the young man was talking about. Ethan finally pulled himself to his feet, giggling softly as he gestured his head to Mark’s tie. “Plus, your tie is crooked.”

Mark glanced down at his tie, letting out a dramatic huff when he realized that was indeed the case. “Well, Mr. _I’m so perfect at everything_ …why don’t you tie it for me.”

Ethan smiled sheepishly. “I’ve never had to tie a tie in my life,” he admitted, crossing his arms loosely. “You think _this_ face has seen a day in an _office_? Clip-on ties _only_.” Mark chuckled softly, carefully beginning to untie his tie so he could redo it. “I just _assumed_ that someone who has been working in an office for so long would know their way around it. You know, like the back of your hand? Guess I was mistaken though. You’re just a completely _average_ tie…tyer? Is that…is that a word?” Mark shrugged simply in return. “Well, my statement still stands,” he insisted, grinning happily. It was fun to be able to joke with his friend…so unbelievably natural. It was like they had been friends for years, honestly, especially considering they had seen each other every day for the past month. It seemed like something he had been doing forever, to be honest…it was weird, in a way; the fact that they had managed to grow so close, even though his job didn’t _require_ him to even speak to Mark. If they had set out a mutual agreement in the beginning for Ethan to just watch Charlotte…the two of them didn’t _need_ to talk to each other…but they did. And, of course, Ethan was beyond grateful for it. He really didn’t want to imagine a life where he _hadn’t_ met the older man. After all, he didn’t know where he would be without him. He wouldn’t have been getting better, that was for sure. Ethan didn’t know how much longer he would have been able to survive off of his previous paycheck…he had Mark to thank for practically _everything_ good in his life.

“I’m average at it, huh?” Mark questioned in return, cocking his eyebrow and giving a smug smile. The young man gave a justified nod of his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze lingering on the older man’s hands, watching as he proceeded to tie his tie. “Well, clip-ons are for suckers,” he continued, giving a simple shrug of his shoulders. “Everybody knows that. Didn’t your dad teach you how to tie a tie?” Ethan thought about it for a few seconds. No, he couldn’t say that he remembered such an occasion. So, reluctantly, the young brunette truthfully shook his head. Mark paused at that. “Well, they’re supposed to,” he admitted, humming softly underneath his breath once he had finished. “They’re also supposed to teach you how to shave…they typically teach you how to ride a bike for the first time. How to give a firm handshake…change a tire…I don’t know, build shit?” Ethan pursed his lips. Those were really things that he had learned on his own. At least, the handshake and shaving thing…he wasn’t sure he would be able to change a tire even if he _tried_. “Any of that…ringing a bell?” Ethan shook his head once again.

“Not particularly,” he replied. 

“Are you telling me you taught yourself how to ride a bike on your own?” Mark scoffed playfully.

Nevertheless, Ethan nodded. “Yeah,” he returned, smiling a bit. “It’s not that hard, I guess. You just gotta…learn to find balance.” Mark thought about it for a few seconds before shrugging. “What sort of things are you gonna teach Charlotte?” He questioned. “I mean…sure, I guess you could teach her how to ride a bike… _maybe_ you could teach her how to tie a tie. But, I mean…I dunno about you…but I don’t think she’s gonna find that much of a use in learning how to shave her face.” Mark let out a huff of laughter, rolling his eyes.

“Well, for starters, I want to teach her how to tie her shoes, and how to figure out which one goes on which foot without her looking at the stickers on them,” Mark returned, pausing as he continued thinking. “How to make her own bed, because that has got to be one of my least favorite parts of the day. Nothing against it…it’s just annoying.” Ethan giggled a bit, shifting as the older man continued. “I mean, I don’t really know. I guess learning how to…build a pillow fort?” The young man stifled his laughter from the comment. It was so completely random…but, at the same time, it made sense. 

“You should add playing chess to the list,” Ethan retorted. “I betcha she would be pretty good at that if she knew how to play.”

“I’ll think about it,” the older man joked.

Ethan pursed his lips, giving a shit-eating grin. “Maybe while you’re teaching her how to play chess, she could tell you a thing or two about ice skating,” he mentioned, noticing the painfully slow eye roll Mark gave in return. 

“You’re quite the comedian,” Mark said sardonically.

“Why thank you,” Ethan returned, not skipping a beat as he smiled to himself. “I mean, someone’s got to be the funny one around here. Believe me, I’ve waited a few days for you to pick up the pace and quit _slacking_ over there…but I guess you really _can’t_ teach an old dog new tricks. I guess a lack of good humor comes with…age.” He stifled his laughter before eventually giving in, giggling hysterically as he noticed Mark trying not to laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you look that old for fifty.”

“You’re an asshole,” Mark laughed.

“I thought I was a comedian,” Ethan mentioned. He paused, thinking for a few seconds. “Seriously though, how old are you? I mean, I know I shouldn’t ask, ladies don’t really give away that kind of secret.” He smiled a bit. “But, if it makes you feel better…you look like you’re in your twenties.”

Mark smiled a bit. “I’m thirty-one,” he corrected. Ethan gave a small nod. “You?”

“Twenty-four,” the young man replied.

“Well, you don’t look a day over forty,” Mark retorted. Ethan couldn’t help but smile, shifting over to go sit on the couch. He hummed underneath his breath, falling back onto the cushions before glancing out of the corner of his eye, noticing how the older man’s gaze till lingered on him. It was something that the young man had noticed his friend doing the previous day… _looking_ at him. Ethan didn’t know if it was something he was doing wrong, or if there was something _odd_ about him…but he still didn’t know what it was. It obviously was nothing of importance, since the young man himself couldn’t seem to figure it out, but he just wished that the older man would _mention it_. Ethan sure wouldn’t, of course. Noticing that Mark was looking at him meant that he was looking back, and that wasn’t exactly something he wanted to get caught doing. He didn’t know why, of course…they were _friends_. Looking at friends wasn’t…awkward. At least, Ethan didn’t like to think so. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat, glancing over to the window. “Nothing really interesting to look at out there,” Mark admitted. “Just the same old buildings you can see from anywhere else.”

“Well, that’s not really that optimistic of you,” Ethan joked, turned his head over his left shoulder to look back at his friend. Mark smiled a bit, shrugging. “If you stand out on the fire escape though…instead of just looking out the window…it’s better.”

“I know something even better than that,” the older man mentioned.

“What would that be?” Ethan questioned, shifting on the couch. He cocked his eyebrow slightly, crossing his arms loosely against his chest as he leaned back against the cushions once more. Mark smiled a bit, glancing up at the ceiling.

“Going up to the roof of the apartment complex,” Mark mentioned. Ethan’s eyes widened slightly from the comment. “Oh, don’t act all surprised, the air isn’t any thinner up there than out is on the ground. It’s not even that high up…but, even if you stand on the top without going to the edge of it…you can get a pretty good glimpse of the city. At least, a better one than you could get from standing near the window _or_ on the fire escape. You get to feel like you’re on top of the world, really. Sure, you’re not any taller than the skyscrapers, the building isn’t _that_ high…but you feel important. It’s weird, I guess, but me and Kaitlyn used to do it all the time. Just stand up there and look at the buildings…sometimes, we would lay on our back and look up at the sky, almost as if we expected to see something up there. Of course, there really wasn’t anything…light pollution _sucks_. But, a dark abyss is just as pretty…in a weird way.”

“You can get a pretty good view at the stars in Maine,” Ethan mentioned. “ _Really_ good depending on where you go. I didn’t even know light pollution was even a thing until I came here to the city. I mean, sure, I had heard about it…but I didn’t think it was so serious that the _entire_ sky could just be…blank.” He smiled a bit. “The city lights are pretty, though…there really isn’t anything like it.”

“That’s reassuring,” Mark hummed. He smiled a bit, walking over to sit on the couch beside Ethan. The young man smiled a bit. “I really don’t know what’s taking her forever,” he mentioned, referring to his daughter, who the both of them assumed was still getting dressed. The young man chuckled softly, shrugging his shoulders in return as he sunk down into the cushions. 

“Let her take her time,” Ethan teased.

“She’s already used all her time, now she’s taking _mine_ ,” Mark explained, although he kept his voice soft. Ethan giggled a bit. “Honestly, thank God we’re friends, because this would have been the most _awkward_ few minutes of my life just waiting for her if we hardly knew each other.”

“No kidding,” the young brunette scoffed playfully. He hummed underneath his breath, feeling the older man hesitantly scoot over a bit toward him. Ethan supposed Mark just didn’t have enough room, since he was sitting near the arm of the couch. The two of them sat in silence for the following minute, the older man perking up slightly when he heard the sound of Charlotte’s bedroom door opening. “There she is,” the young man mentioned, glancing at his friend who nodded, smiling in return. Ethan shifted off of the couch, standing to his feet and grinning when he saw the young girl slide into the living room on her socks. “Well, don’t you look nice,” the young man mentioned, Charlotte giggling happily in return.

“Fischbachs always look nice,” Mark replied from over his shoulder. Ethan glanced back at him, only to give him a roll of his eyes. “I speak nothing but the truth,” the older man joked, standing to his feet as well. He reached into his back pocket, taking a quick look at his phone before clearing his throat. “Well, I’d better get going,” Mark mentioned, gesturing his head down to the time before slipping his phone away once again. “Time stops for no man.” He hummed, carefully walking over to Charlotte, crouching down in front of her to give her a hug. The young girl giggled, leaning forward and wrapping her arms gently around her father. The young brunette couldn’t help but smile at the two of them. “You two have fun today, okay?”

“Okay,” Charlotte chirped, smiling up at her father as he finally stood to his feet.

Mark gave a small justified nod, glancing back over his shoulder to give a quick wave at Ethan. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, I’ll keep you posted,” he mentioned. The young man nodded his head, giving a quick thumbs up. Mark reached for his blazer, which remained draped on the living room chair, quickly tugging it on. The young brunette allowed himself to fall back onto the couch, humming underneath his breath, his gaze remaining on the older man just the same. Ethan smiled shyly as Mark glanced back again, their eyes meeting for just a few seconds, causing the young man to feel practically _obligated_ about giving a sheepish wave. The older man smiled from this, finally facing forward to grab his briefcase before finally leaving. Ethan stared at the door for a few seconds after he had left, allowing himself to let out a content sigh. He glanced over to Charlotte, who grinned happily, toddling over to the couch to crawl up beside him. The young man shifted over, making room so she could curl up against his side.

“When are we goin’ skating?” She chirped, tilting her head back slightly to look up at him with curiosity. Ethan couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, playfully ruffling her hair.

“Not until after lunch,” he explained softly. “Maybe around one. Do you think you can wait that long?” The young girl pursed her lips in thought, almost as if she was doing the mental math in her head…almost as if she had the _capacity_ to do the mental math in her head. Nevertheless, Charlotte gave a small justified nod. “Well, then it’s settled,” Ethan decided. “We’ll go skating at one, after lunch. Until then, though, you’re gonna have to keep us busy because I have absolutely no plan for today except for ice skating.” Charlotte giggled a bit.

“Can we watch _The Fox and the Hound?_ ” She questioned eagerly.

Ethan held his breath before nodding his head. “I couldn’t have thought of a better suggestion,” he complimented.

∞§—————§∞

“Eth?” Charlotte chirped, squeezing the older man’s hand as she walked down the sidewalk beside him. The young man glanced down at her, giving a small hum in return to acknowledge her question. Sure enough, after lunch, the two of them found themselves journeying from the apartment complex to the rink at Rockefeller Center. Ethan made sure not to bring his backpack, since having to ask for someone to hold it was embarrassing enough the first time, even if _he_ hadn’t been the one doing the asking. He supposed he just didn’t like going out of his way to ask for things. Instead, he had tucked his wallet carefully into his front pocket, since it would be beyond obvious if someone tried to pick-pocket him. All he needed was his wallet and his phone, just in case Mark decided to text them while they were out. This time, of course, Ethan would be able to pay for their skates. “Why are there no stars again? I forget…kinda.” The young man chuckled softly in return, pursing his lips as he tried to think about how he had originally explained it. “Oh, and can you show me a piture of ‘em later?”

“I’d be more than happy to show you a picture of them when we’re finished skating,” Ethan retorted, smiling as he hummed underneath his breath. “It’s not that there aren’t any stars _anywhere,_ though. There are still stars. Just not in the city.” Charlotte looked up at him with amazement. The young brunette could recall the young girl mentioning how she had never seen any before. It was something that Ethan considered completely ridiculous, of course, until he thought about it for a few seconds. Charlotte _had_ grown up in the city, after all. Not to mention that, she rarely got around outside long enough to even know what stars were in the first place, even if they _were_ there for her to see. “The city has a lot of bright lights, you know? All of the skyscraper lights that stay on…street lamps, car blinkers, light-up signs from cafes and stores that they forget to turn off. But, the majority of the light comes from skyscrapers.” He paused. “People call New York City the city that never sleeps, did you know that?” Charlotte thought for a few seconds before shaking her head. “Well, the reason they call it that is because it’s true. There’s _always_ someone awake in the city. It’s really big, remember?”

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte confirmed.

“So, even though it’s night time and people are supposed to be sleeping, there are still _soooo many_ lights on in skyscrapers and buildings, and lights along the store,” Ethan continued. “Sometimes, the Empire State building even lights up pretty colors. Did you know that?” The young girl shook her head again. “Well, anyway, all of these lights come together to make a problem. As pretty as they are, they cause light pollution. Have you ever heard of pollution?” Charlotte nodded this time. “Well, although light pollution might not be as _bad_ as other kinds of pollution, it makes the sky seem really washed out. That means you can’t see the stars. They’re still there, though. The light doesn’t get rid of them…it just hides them.” The young man paused, thinking for a few seconds. “Theoretically…which means _maybe_ …if every single building in New York City turned off the lights, and the city went on a complete black out…then the sky would have stars.” Charlotte’s eyes lit up slightly.

“Can you do that?” She suggested.

Ethan stifled his laughter. “I wish I could,” he admitted, a dramatic sigh following as he continued walking beside her. “But, alas, I’m afraid I’m not the mayor of New York City. If I were friends with him, maybe I could get him to do us a favor, but I don’t think I’m on that waiting list.” The young girl nodded a bit. “When you’re older, though, maybe you can ask your daddy to take you out for a drive. It doesn’t have to be far, really. Just somewhere out of the city. Then, you and he can look up at the stars all you want, and you’ll finally get to see what they look like in person. How does that sound?” 

Charlotte pursed her lips. “You could drive me,” she mentioned thoughtfully. “When I’m older.”

Ethan smiled a bit. “Honey, I won’t be around as much,” he replied. She looked up at him with confusion, obviously not understanding what he meant, a slight pout visible on her lips. “Well, you’re starting school next year, remember? Your daddy only needs me around the apartment because I babysit you while he’s at work. Once you’re old enough to go to school, that’s basically _free_ babysitting…plus you’re learning! Whole new possibilities, and your daddy won’t need me to watch you anymore.” The young girl wore a blank expression, blinking simply. “Me and your daddy will still be friends,” Ethan continued reassuringly, not wanting the young girl to worry so much. “And I can still come over sometime, but I’m gonna have to find a new job.” The young man swallowed thickly, almost shuddering from the thought. It wouldn’t be until September when he needed to get a new job…but he couldn’t help but fear the date. It wasn’t just because he didn’t want to go through the application and interview process again, or because he feared he wouldn’t be able to find anything…no. Ethan _genuinely_ liked being around the apartment with Charlotte. Watching movies with her, noticing how she learned new things beside him, being there when Mark arrived…having dinner with the two of them. It was more than just a _requirement_ …Ethan loved it. He loved every second of it, and part of him didn’t know if he would be ready to let that go when school rolled around…when Charlotte would finally be old enough to enter first grade. That didn’t _seem_ like something he would be ready for.

Ethan had already become so accustomed to being around Charlotte for the past month. He could imagine a world where he… _didn’t_ see her practically every day; a world where he wouldn’t get to see _Mark_ practically every day. He smiled at the thought. It really was one of the best parts of his day, pathetic as it was or not. The young man just loved being able to see the older man smile when he walked in the door, crouching down to hug his daughter as she rushed over, because the brunette knew well enough that smiling wasn’t something Mark commonly did in his cubicle. Ethan didn’t want to have to get used to the feeling of working somewhere else…used to the feeling of trying again at some restaurant to see if he could attempt to fill a waiter’s position. Looking after children had been the longest job he had ever managed to hold; a full _four months_. That was something the young brunette never could have dreamed of accomplishing…he supposed he could go back crawling to the daycare center he had originally worked for, although he wasn’t too sure the owners would be so keen as to allow him back…especially considering he had quit. Ethan didn’t like thinking about it, though. It made him sad…it made him remember everything he would miss when it was all over; when it was time for him to stop spending so much time at Mark’s apartment, and find a ‘real’ job. When it was time to go back to seemingly boring days without Charlotte…where he wouldn’t be able to see the two of them every day, something he could never possibly take for granted. For once in his life…Ethan _loved_ his job. He just couldn’t believe that everything would be gone in less than a year, and he would have to start a fresh slate…one that he would be walking alone.

Until then, though, the young man wasn’t going to allow himself to take any of what he had for granted. Ethan was going to try his best to enjoy every single day of watching Charlotte, even if they were just rewatching Disney movies over and over and over again. He wouldn’t fuss during dinner because he knew well enough that he wouldn’t change where he was for any amount of money in the world.

Ethan smiled softly as he continued walking beside the young girl, humming underneath his breath. He remembered the first time they had gone ice skating. It had really been a month ago; time really flew, Ethan supposed. This time, though, the young man knew where he was going. Previously, he had simply followed Mark’s lead, but this time he was doing it on his own. He desperately wanted to go back to the ice skating rink with the older man, though. He could recall how fun it had been…how, despite barely knowing each other, the two of them had been able to have a good time. Although originally experiencing an awkward tension between the two of them while they had been walking, it was something that had managed to overcome while they were on the rink. The two of them had been able to stumble around on the ice, although mostly Mark, and he just remembered feeling so incredibly carefree around him. They had just been able to smile together, despite themselves, and enjoy the day. Laughing hysterically as they lay on their backs, staring up at the sky after being knocked over after a foolish attempt with Mark thinking he could hold himself up if he grabbed onto the young man’s shoulders. It was ridiculous, and they had received so many disapproving glances, mostly from people who thought they were being childish…but it was _so_ incredibly fun. Small moments like that with his friend were more than enough. 

“Almost there,” Ethan mentioned, gesturing his hand off in the distance. The young girl followed his gaze, her eyes lighting up happily. “Ready to practice your ice0skating skills?” Charlotte giggled, nodding her head. “You could be an ice-skater when you grow up, did you know that?”

“I dunno,” the young girl mentioned. “Maybe.”

“Maybe, huh?” The young man questioned. He nodded his head in understanding. “That’s fair. When I was younger, I wanted to have a job like your daddy had. Did you know that?” This time, Charlotte shook her head, grinning a bit at the thought. It was obviously something out of the ordinary, since she had only seen the man as a babysitter. “I know, it sounds pretty crazy,” Ethan continued, grinning a bit. “So, I went to college, which is a _very_ complicated school. But…I wasn’t that good at college. I wasn’t good at writing essays, or taking notes in class, so I dropped out.” He gave a half-smile. “And I got a _whole_ lot of jobs before I finally started helping you and your daddy out. So…I guess you don’t have to know what you’re doing in life, because sometimes things just work out anyway.” He smiled gently, continuing to lead her down the sidewalk. Sure enough, they had eventually reached the ice skating rink, the young girl grinning with excitement as she leaned against Ethan happily. The young man glanced down at her, playfully ruffling her hair before giggling softly. “Ready to go skating?” He questioned, a visible smile on the young girl’s face as she eagerly nodded her head in return.

“Uh-huh!” Charlotte announced happily.

“Well, it looks like we’re both in luck,” the young brunette continued, squeezing her hand gently. Stay close to me, okay?” The young girl nodded. Ethan had no intention of letting go of her hand, of course, but it was always nice to remind her. He sucked in a heavy breath, exhaling contently when he was met with the sight of the ice skating rink, not yet starting down the stairs yet. It was something that Ethan considered unbelievably surreal, considering he had only been there once before, despite how long he had stayed in the city prior. It was always nice to be introduced to new things, though. Although, Ethan was yet to ever ride the subway, and it was still something that he had no intention of doing. They just seemed… _dirty_. Ethan smiled to himself, feeling the young girl leaning on him again, her gaze lingering on the statue that the young man was also staring at. “Pretty, isn’t it?” He questioned, glancing down at Charlotte. She gave a small nod of her head in confirmation, smiling slightly. “You were lucky, you know," he continued softly, “to be born in the city and all? Did you know that so many people around the world dream of living here?”

“Really?” Charlotte chirped.

“Uh-huh,” the young man confirmed, nodding his head. “I mean, I was born in Maine, but I always wanted to live in the city. It’s really romanticized in movies, I guess, but it’s the truth. I really do love it here. It’s much larger than the town I grew up in, that’s for sure…but there are a lot more opportunities here than there were in my hometown, and I knew that there was a lot more I could do than stay where I was born.” He sucked in another quick breath before squeezing Charlotte’s hand again, carefully leading her down the set of marble stairs. “Alrighty, here we go.” The young girl giggled, following after him happily as she continued holding her hand.

“Yay,” the young girl breathed out contently, smiling shyly as she stuck close to his side. Ethan glanced down at her gently, a smile visible on his face as he lead her down to where they could pay for admission and ice skates. 

“Maybe we should invest in some ice skates,” Ethan joked. “That way we don’t have to keep renting them. As much as I would love to take you here all the time, I’m afraid it’s a real _dent_ in my bank account.” He gave a half-smile. He glanced around, smiling a bit. The young man supposed it had been a good idea to come in the afternoon, especially considering it meant it wasn’t as crowded. Although New York City was large, most of the people who occupied it were off at work, similar to Mark, and they probably didn’t have time for skating. Of course, as Ethan noticed, there were often mothers bringing their children, who had been lucky enough to have been pulled out of school or receive a day off, although the young man didn’t know of any occasion. “A lot of kids here,” the young man mentioned.

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte returned. “There’s a boy from daycare.” 

Ethan smiled a bit. “Oh, well that’s nice,” he mentioned. “It might be a big city, but I guess it’s a small world.” He hummed underneath his breath, glancing over his left shoulder until his gaze landed on a boy that he too recognized from the daycare. Often the type who would be playing off with the other boys, pushing a toy car back and forth. “Do you wanna go talk to him after we get our skates?” Ethan suggested. “Maybe make a new friend?

“No,” the young girl retorted. “He’s mean.”

“He’s mean, huh?” Ethan asked. She nodded her head in return. He pursed his lips, shrugging his shoulders afterward. “Well, I guess we don’t hang out with meanies, right?” Charlotte giggled, nodding her head. “Yeah, that’s right,” he whispered, ruffling her hair before leading her over to the admissions counter. Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reaching for his wallet because he knew well enough he would be needing it very soon. Although it wouldn’t be as much as it had been the previous time, since Mark wasn’t there to join him, he could only assume that the number wouldn’t be too far off, Everything was bigger in New York City. The malls, the transportation services, the buildings, the roads…and, especially the prices of practically everything that was piled one on top of the other. “Um, how much is the admission price for one adult and one child?” He questioned. Although he had let go of Charlotte’s hand to fish through his wallet, the girl remained close by her side, swaying carefully. Ethan watched as the woman on the other side of the counter glanced up at him.

“$40,” she replied. Ethan supposed that it wasn’t too bad. Although, in the grand scheme of things, he knew of ice skating places in the city that could offer a similar experience, although for only ten dollars a person. Of course, he knew well enough that it wouldn’t be anything that would interest Charlotte. “Oh, and if your daughter needs a skating trainer,” she continued, gesturing her hand over to where skates could be seen for rent, “feel free to just ask someone behind the desk and they’ll be more than happy to give one to you with an additional fee.” Ethan blinked simply.

“Oh, she’s not…” he retorted, his voice trailing off as fished his hand through his wallet. The young man didn’t seem to understand how the woman had assumed Charlotte was his daughter, especially since the two of them hardly looked alike…but he supposed that saying she wasn’t his daughter would only make the entire thing more complicated. It was never something Ethan had had to do, of course, because he had presumed everyone _knew_ he wasn’t her father. Did people think he was her father when he was walking around? He cleared his throat. “She’s not really into those,” Ethan explained, giving a weak smile before reluctantly forking over the forty dollars he owned. The woman behind the counter nodded her head in understanding, smiling a bit before placing the money in the register. Ethan held his wallet close in his right hand, since he knew he would be needing it again, but he reached for Charlotte’s hand with his left. “Come on, Char,” he hummed. Charlotte smiled happily, grabbing his hand and following after him.

The young girl trailed behind him. Ethan was quick to rent ice skates, a familiar smile returning to his face as he lead her over to where they could finally put them on. “I assume you need help tying your laces?” He questioned, recalling how Mark had mentioned his daughter’s inability to tie them herself. Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course. Nevertheless, Charlotte eagerly nodded her head, although she made an effort to assist with taking her own shoes off for him. “I like your socks,” Ethan mentioned. A familiar baby blue shade with porcelain white stars. The young girl grinned happily, glancing around as her foot was slipped into an ice skate.

“Eth?” Charlotte questioned softly, her voice trailing off as if she was confused. The young man glanced up at her as he proceeded to tie her shoelace. “Are you my daddy now too?” 

Ethan’s eyes widened slightly from the question, his heart skipping a beat. For a few seconds, he didn’t really understand what she meant. Well, he _understood_ …just couldn’t comprehend. It was a simple question, if anything…just a young girl being curious to something she hadn’t quite experienced before. It struck Ethan by surprise, nonetheless. It was…never something he had originally considered. He didn’t have to give a second thought to it, of course, once he knew what she was asking. “No, I’m not,” he returned gently, a half-smile on his face as he tried not to laugh. The question, innocent enough, was hilarious. The young girl sat there in confusion though, her eyebrows furrowing. “What, you don’t like that answer?” Ethan continued, giggling softly.

Charlotte shrugged. “The lady said…” she mentioned.

Ethan smiled. “The lady was just a little confused as to who you were in relation to me,” he explained simply. “If she had mistaken you for my sister, it wouldn’t have made you my sister, now would it?” The young girl pursed her lips before eventually shaking her head. “Exactly,” Ethan chuckled, finishing up Charlotte’s laces before eventually moving to sit beside her, ready to tie up his own ice skates. “You only have one daddy, and that’s the one you’ve already got. Maybe if your daddy finds someone he loves, you could have two daddies, or you could have another mommy. I don’t get to be your daddy just because someone _says_ I am.” Charlotte thought about it for a few more seconds. “Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Charlotte returned softly. “Okay, Eth.”

Ethan smiled a bit, chuckling softly as he finished up tying his laces. “Glad we’ve come to a mutual decision,” he retorted jokingly, carefully standing to the blades of his skates. It was always a feeling he had appreciated, the slightly cushioned floor beneath his ice-skates, something he would feel before entering the rink. “Alright, you ready?” The young girl nodded. Ethan hummed, gesturing his head for Charlotte to go first. Sure enough, she carefully toddled over, being mindful of how quickly she moved and where she stepped so she wouldn’t stumble over. Much more graceful than her father, to say the least. Nevertheless, she carefully pushed herself out onto the ice skating rink, as she had before, stopping her knees from buckling as she glided across. Ethan let out a soft chuckle, allowing himself to lean on the exterior of the railing for just a few more seconds before he reluctantly entered after her, a wide smile visible on his face. He loved being able to see the young girl happy. It was always something he appreciated, especially knowing how _troubled_ things had been for her when she was younger. Ethan assumed it wasn’t that much of a deal for her now that she was older, since her mother had left when she was young…but he just didn’t know how she managed to smile so genuinely. It was something he himself would struggle to do if he were in her shoes…if he had to know that his mother had left and wasn’t coming back. He didn’t mention it around her, though. There just wasn’t any point to it.

“Watch this!” Charlotte giggled happily. The young man skidded to a stop, glancing over his shoulder at the young girl. He watched as she stood there for a few seconds, obviously trying to figure out what she was going to do next, and the young brunette couldn’t help but let out a soft huff of laughter. Nevertheless, Charlotte finally managed to do a slow spin, which earned her a quick round of applause from Ethan, a wide smile still visible on his face. God, she was hysterical. She giggled happily as she half-skated half-walked toward him, a combination of the two, remaining close to his side. “You next,” she insisted happily.

“You want me to spin?” Ethan questioned.

“Mhm,” the young girl requested.

The young brunette thought for a few seconds, pursing his lips before skating a few paces back, just enough so he wouldn’t knock Charlotte in the face with the blade of his skate. That would surely be an event he would not want to procure or witness. He sucked in a small breath, giving a quick smile before doing a quick spin, grinning ear to ear when he was finished. Charlotte’s eyes lit up with wonder. “That good?” He asked, watching as she nodded happily.

“Howdja do it?”

“My brother taught me when I was younger,” he mentioned.

“You have a brother?” Charlotte questioned.

Ethan smiled a bit. “Yup,” he confirmed. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he had _talked_ to him. It had been a while since the whole… _college_ incident. Unlike their parents, of course, his brother hadn’t been that harsh on him for it. Although he obviously hadn’t let it roll off his shoulder, Andrew had convinced him that he would manage to get back on his feet. However, the two of them had stopped talking after Ethan found himself becoming distant from his parents during the holidays…and the rest had been history. Something that could have easily been saved was damaged with the rest. “An older brother. His name’s Andrew.”

“Is he nice?”

Ethan chuckled softly, nodding his head. “He’s very nice,” the young man confirmed. He smiled softly, thinking back to when he himself had been younger. When life wasn’t that complicated or difficult, and although the teachers obviously weren’t _pleased_ with his grades…he had never been kicked out. Ethan remembered looking up to his older brother _constantly_ , admiring everything he did…part of him had just felt like he couldn’t talk to him after what had happened; he just felt like he had let him down. Nevertheless, that was something the young man didn’t want to think about. They were ice skating…they were having _fun_. Ethan didn’t need to be reminded of…of how he had fucked up. “I used to talk to him all the time, but we don’t talk that much anymore.” Charlotte opened her mouth to press further, but she quickly closed it a second later. God bless the girl for being able to read the room, that was all the young man had to say. It was a skill that far too many children had not obtained. She smiled though, sliding over a bit to lean against him. Ethan gave a watery smile, looking down at her and carefully tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear though. “I got you to talk to, though,” he mentioned, a kind flicker in his eye. “So that makes it all better.”  
“My daddy says I talk a lot,” Charlotte giggled.

“Well, he’s not wrong,” the young man mentioned. “But that doesn’t mean you talk ‘too much’. I think you talk the perfect amount, which is wonderful. A lot of kids your age don’t like talking to adults, did you know that?” The young girl shook her head. “Well, it’s the truth. That’s what makes you unique. You don’t care if you’re talking to an adult; it doesn’t scare you. I was talkative when I was younger, too…well, I guess I still am a little talkative.” 

“Just a lil bit,” she replied.

“I thank you for your honesty,” Ethan joked. He smiled softly, reaching out to take the young girl’s hand, which she accepted. And, just like that, they were skating again. Sure, there was the occasional stumble of either of them falling onto their knees, but they were lucky enough never to land on their head. That was something Ethan had done when he was younger, though. It wasn’t the best experience. Nevertheless, _this_ was something the young man would miss when the experience was over…when he wouldn’t be able to babysit Charlotte for Mark anymore. He would miss the simple moments of just hanging out with her on a whim, barely having to plan ahead or check his schedules because his job was centered around making sure she smiled. The best job in the world, if Ethan had to vouch for it. There never seemed to be a dull moment, and that was something Ethan couldn’t get over. Sure enough, ten minutes later, they were leaning against the rink so Ethan could catch his breath. As fun as spinning was, he knew well enough that doing it too much would cause him to have to take a breather. He glanced over his right shoulder, admiring the familiar, and somewhat iconic, statue. It was something that the young man had always dreamed of seeing…something he promised himself he would do once he had moved to the city. Surprisingly, of course, it hadn’t been the first thing on Ethan’s list…or the second…or the hundredth. Only a month prior had he been able to see it for the first time, which surprised him. Nevertheless, he didn’t complain.

“Daddy!” Charlotte squealed.

“Honey, we’ve been over this,” the young man chuckled. “You only have one daddy, now two. And…” his voice trailed off as he followed the young girl’s gaze, once he had realized Charlotte wasn’t looking up at him. Ethan’s heart fluttered slightly, a small smile of disbelief finally making his way onto his face as he looked off to the edge of the ring, surprised at the sight of Mark carefully pushing himself out onto the ice. “Jesus Christ,” he scoffed playfully, resting his hands on his hips as Charlotte giggled. The young man waited where he was for a few seconds, counting down the seconds before eventually watching as Mark crashed down to the ice. Ethan could only assume as much. “Not surprised,” he whispered softly. Nevertheless, he carefully glided over to the older man, dropping down beside him.

“What are you doing here?” Ethan questioned, a wide grin of surprise on his face as he looked at Mark. The older man looked up from his hands, their eyes meeting, and the young man’s body felt… _cold_ for a few seconds. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, he supposed, considering they were on an ice skating rink during the middle of winter…but then, the next second, his hands felt flush, his cheeks following suit as he just looked back at him, not even knowing what to make of the situation. Was the young man supposed to say something? Was he supposed to continue? Should he wait and let Mark answer the question? Ethan assumed that was the only _logical_ choice…but, at that second, his brain was wiped of all common sense. He forgot how to speak, and he would have been left a blubbering mess if he didn’t know well enough to keep his mouth shut. God, the man could practically _feel_ his pupils dilating. Was this… _normal_? Was this just how people felt when they looked at their friends? Ethan hadn’t had too many friends during his lifetime, but it certainly wasn’t something he had experienced when he looked at Sean…no, this was different. This was new, and the young man didn’t know if he was supposed to like it or not. Nevertheless, he waited for Mark to say something, noticing how the older man seemed to be in a daze of his own. Eventually, however, Mark cleared his throat, bringing himself to answer the question.

“Skating, obviously,” Mark joked, sweeping his hand through his hair, their gaze not breaking. God, when was the last time that Ethan blinked? He couldn’t even remember, but his eyes didn’t feel sore. A small smile peeked onto his face, and he couldn’t help but giggle in return. His face felt warm. 

“That’s debatable,” Ethan mentioned. He swallowed thickly, shifting slightly and feeling the heat drain from his face once more, bringing him back to normal. That had been painfully weird, although he didn’t think his discomfort had been noticeable. Either way, they were both just sort of looking at each other, their faces sort of expressionless. As if they were too afraid to _show_ emotion during that moment. After a few seconds though, Mark smiled…and the young man allowed himself to smile too. It had been just him who had felt the weird feeling, he supposed. “But seriously,” Ethan insisted, pulling himself to his feet so that he was looking down at his friend, who he extended his hand to. “What are you even doing here? It’s like, not even two in the afternoon. You should be at _work_. You’ve got a presentation coming up on Friday, you…shouldn’t you be preparing for that?” Part of him was obviously happy that Mark was here…but the other part of him was conflicted.

“I had someone cover my shift for me,” Mark explained, reaching up and grabbing Ethan’s hand. The young man pulled his friend to his feet, giggling a bit as the older man struggled to find his balance. Sure enough, though, he did, standing on his own for a few more solid seconds. “I didn’t really know them that well, to be honest, so I was pretty surprised when they accepted…but I just sort of asked.” Ethan gave him a look of confusion. Surely that wasn’t something that the older man should be doing regularly. “I promise you, I only did it because I wanted to go skating with you.” Mark cleared his throat. “With you and Charlotte,” he corrected. Ethan smiled a bit, glancing down at the young girl. “I just know that everything is about to get super busy, and this was the _only_ chance I had to go ice skating anytime soon. So…screw it. I might as well.” Ethan gave a playful roll of his eyes. “Oh, is someone upset that I’m here?” The man questioned teasingly. “Because, if I recall, you _wanted_ me to come.”

“I wanted you to come in _general_ , not literally today!” Ethan exclaimed, laughing hysterically. “You’re impossible!”

“And _you’re_ impossible to please,” the older man joked, a wide smile on his face as he gave the young man a playful shove. Ethan gave a dramatic gasp, obviously not stumbling backward, but he stifled his laughter when he noticed Mark shrink into himself. “Don’t shove me, I will quite literally fall over and break every bone in my body.”

“Sure thing, you big wuss,” Ethan retorted.

“Take that back!” Mark gasped.

“Or what?” The young man scoffed playfully. “Are you gonna skate over here and punch me in the face? Or, should I say, try to move and fall over because for once you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing?” Mark tried his best to keep a straight face and not smile as he stared back at the older man. “I guess neither,” Ethan mentioned, a shit-eating grin on his face as he stared back at his friend. However, much to his surprise, Mark tried to best to _walk_ over to him. Yes, walk. Ethan could barely contain his laughter from the attempt, which obviously failed as the older man stumbled forward, taking Ethan down with him. The young man howled with laughter, letting out a grunt as he landed on his back, but it hardly hurt, so it wasn’t something he would complain about.

Mark landed on his stomach beside him, grumbling underneath his breath.

“You okay there, Mark?” Ethan asked in between gasps, giggling hysterically as he glanced his head over his right shoulder, his cheek pressed gently against the ice as he looked to his friend. Much to his surprise, Mark was looking back at him, his eyes softening as their gaze met. God, was this going to be a reoccurring theme? Nevertheless, Ethan didn’t question anything. He just stared back at him, feeling his laughter grow still and his heart rate _spike_ just at the sight of him. This definitely couldn’t be normal…none of this was normal. How could he consider this to be _normal_? However, he treated it like he was normal. He lay there on the ice for a few more seconds until his heart rate eventually slowed, his body becoming accustomed to their gaze being locked. And, for a few seconds, it was almost as if he was staring off into space. Ethan quickly sat up upon the new feeling, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I zoned out,” he managed, finding a quick excuse. “I felt like I was gonna _pass out_ after you _knocked me over_.”

Mark scoffed playfully. “Well, I took it as a challenge!” He insisted. And it was back. _They_ were back; back to their friendly, overdramatic selves, instead of whatever state they had been in while lying on the ice. It was beyond confusing, and it was beyond whatever Ethan wanted to get into. He didn’t want to think about it. He was having fun with his friend, and there was nothing more to it. So, he didn’t think of it as anything more. The young brunette simply laughed hysterically, the two of them stumbling over themselves like they had the last time they had gone skating together…and they were happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m actually in a super good mood today because I just ordered a shit ton of Unus Annus merch. I have an unhealthy obsession with that channel, lmfao. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter! Feelings are being….C A U G H T. I also just loved writing the dialogue for the first segment. It’s not every day you get to see these two bois joking around in Baby of Mine, so I thought I would throw some good old wholesome friendliness in there.  
> I recently got Reddit, so if you do wanna message me there my username is simplestability. I just joined on the 27th, so my karma is ass, but that’s fine.  
> This chapter only took me a day to write, which was actually surprising, but I promise you I always put my mental health before writing. The reason it takes me 2-3 days to write a chapter is that one of those days is dedicated to me...doing absolutely nothing but resting after staying up to write a chapter. I make sure to rest, I drink water, and I continue my exercise routine and schedule. Thank you guys for showing so much concern, though <3  
> When I posted works on Wattpad, everyone would just tell me to post more often. It's so nice seeing people telling me to take breaks, and caring about me more than the fic. It's very humanizing, and I'm very thankful for all of you <3 <3 <3
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated! (Thank you so much for your support)
> 
> Love you,  
> Simply!


	27. I Hope We're Here Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s another chapter for you guys! I just realized that we’re getting pretty close to 200k words, which is something I honestly find surprising. I mean, I knew this one would be longer than Fifty Feet in the Air…but I didn’t think this much longer, lol.
> 
> Also, if you haven’t checked it out already, my user for Reddit is u/simplestability. A few of you guys have reached out to me to chat already, and I’ve loved having discussions/friendly banter. Also, thank you to the two users, I’ll let your remain anonymous lol, who gave me such wonderful story suggestions! You’re always free to come up with suggestions, and I would love to write with the guidelines. However, I will add that there are some storylines that don’t always fit my style of writing. I try to write longer, more drawn out fanfics. I’ve never been a person for one shots. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Mark stumbled forward again, making quick attempts to catch himself before he plummeted back down onto the ice…but, as usual, it didn’t work. And, _as usual,_ the man found himself tripping over the own blade of his ice skates, a quick yelp escaping his lips as he fell forward onto his knees. Sure, it didn’t hurt that much, after all…it wasn’t like he had landed on his head. In hindsight, however, Mark knew well enough that he would wake up with bruises that snaked down his leg, dull shades of mauve and mulberry purple, mixed in with green undertones and an occasional darker patch. That was always what seemed to happen whenever he went ice skating. Falling over was alright… _in moderation_. It was worth it though. If he had to fall over a hundred times, seemingly making a fool of himself for each occurrence…he would do it twice, just so he would get the chance to be ice skating with his daughter and best friend. Just the rush of excitement Mark got to feel whenever he somehow managed to glide across the ice, almost surprised that he had accomplished it without tumbling over the second he started. It was a comforting feeling being able to lean against the rail, watching as his daughter pushed herself away from the edge of the rink. She was awfully adorable, to say the least.

Mark didn’t even know how he had managed to get out of work, though. The man could hardly remember a time where he had _actually_ allowed himself to take a break from his job to find time for himself. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that it had been _years_ since he had done it on such short notice. Sure, there were the occasional times where he would leave around three in the afternoon, but those were always scheduled at least two weeks in advance; everyone in the office was always notified, of course, and Mark made sure that Eric knew of his disappearance so that he couldn’t be upset with him if he wasn’t there. The last time Mark had skipped work was…well, years ago. The day after Kaitlyn had left, the young man had woken up insisting that he would manage to get to work…that, despite how unprepared he was to be making any spontaneous decisions, he would be able to get to his office on time. Of course, despite even waking up an hour earlier at the time with intentions of finding somewhere to drop Charlotte off…he just couldn’t. Mark had been too unprepared to make a decision, so he had reluctantly allowed himself to stay home with his daughter, although he answered very few of her questions on her mother’s whereabouts. The young man had allowed himself to sit on the floor with his daughter, playing with her for the entirety of the day; despite what had happened only the previous night…he was content. Despite how _nothing_ seemed to be going his way, just being able to see his daughter smile was more than enough to keep Mark going for the entire afternoon and evening.

Needless to say, since he hadn’t done such a thing in years, the man was a bit wary when it came to asking someone to cover the remainder of his financial records for him. Sure, Mark had managed to cut into a large portion of them, knowing that he had left the shorter and easier ones for his co-workers…he just wasn’t so sure if anyone would be willing to accept an extra load of work. The more the man thought about it, the more he realized that he himself would be so hypocritical as to most likely deny helping someone else if they were in a similar situation. He had heard all the similar excuses before, of course. Either they were swamped with work, or they had intentions of going home earlier as well, or the fact that they just didn't know him well enough…or the fact that they didn’t want to. At least, those were always the excuses that Mark had overheard from neighboring cubicles, where new employees would grovel for the chance of a day off. The man had always been too prideful to do that when he was younger, so he had always bit his tongue and allowed himself to take every day of work.

Nevertheless, Mark had finally allowed himself to cave and ask one of his co-workers. It wasn’t anyone he knew, either…he hardly knew _anyone_ in his office, as pathetic as that sounded. Despite working there for years, he had hardly managed to get to know anyone there. Of course, he supposed could be due to the fact that they came and go, joining the company and receiving promotions soon afterward. There were really only two other people who had worked with him the entire duration of his stay, both of which were pushovers who never really went out of their way to complete any task they were granted with. Nonetheless, they had stayed, and Mark knew well enough that one of them would be his only choice. So, swallowing his pride, the man had managed to ask one of his co-workers, who had reluctantly agreed. Mark had been seemingly flabbergasted, of course, part of him not truly believing that someone would _actually_ want to do the rest of his work for him. After all, the two of them had barely shared more than a simple ‘hi’ while they both happened to be in the break room during lunch, but that was about it. There was never an occurrence where they had joked together, or laughed about something, or collaborated on a project assigned by Eric. They had only shared glances while walking by each other’s cubicles, but that had been the extent of it. Nevertheless…Chris had been kind enough to say yes, although he gave a half-sigh when Mark handed over the remaining contents of his folder. It wasn’t really that much; at least, not compared to what the man had finished before he asked.

Mark had managed to stop by his apartment before heading over to the ice rink, the entire time wondering if he should actually just turn around and go back. After all, it was so unlike the man…he had _never_ just skipped work like that to do something as trivial as ice-skating. The entire walk there, the voice in the back of his head was attempting to convince him to turn around and just go back to work; to make his way to Chris’s cubicle and take back the remaining financial records, which he would finish himself without the help of others. That would be taking the easy way out, he supposed. But, the other part of him wanted _desperately_ to go ice-skating with Ethan and Charlotte before things got stressful the following day, since it would be approaching the date of the meeting, accompanied by the presentation. He knew that would only lead to him being utterly pissed off with Joseph, as well as his own boss, which would lead to him being in a bad mood constantly. Being in a bad mood constantly meant no time for ice-skating…plus, he had heard how much Ethan had wanted him to join when he had mentioned it previously. And, well…Mark had just wanted to see the smile on the young man’s face when he finally arrived to the rink. The man wanted to see his best friend in a fit of hysterics whenever he tumbled over, skating over beside him to help him up. Sure, Mark knew well enough that he got to see Ethan smile practically every day, considering how many times he was over and how long he stayed…but, for once, he wanted to have intention to it. He didn’t know if that was weird or not, but he liked to think it wasn’t.

And, when Mark had finally arrived at the rink…the part of him that wanted to go back melted away when he remembered why he did it. Getting to see Ethan glance over his shoulder, illustrating a smile littered with pure surprise and disbelief was more than enough to make his day, and more than enough to stop him from regretting his decisions. The slight flicker in his eye, his pupils dilating as he stared at him with amazement, only to laugh hysterically once he tumbled over within the first few seconds. Mark could hardly get enough of it, of course, pulling himself to his hands and knees before just looking up at Ethan…and then the world fell silent. The man had no longer been able to hear the scraping of the blades against the ice, or the people chatting as they paced by…the sounds of others falling over, or people laughing and shouting. Everything had been drowned out, like he had dunked his head underwater. Except…he didn’t wanna get out of it. Part of him just wanted to stay like that, and he didn’t know why. He had shifted, his hand remaining on the freezing ice as he had looked up at Ethan, the younger man making no attempts of moving either. The two of them had just stayed like that for a few seconds, the world in a seemingly perfect harmony circling around them as they just _looked_ at each other. Of course, as soon as it came, it had gone. Mark was left dumbfounded for a few seconds, of course, but he had stood to his feet and they had continued joking as normal.

But it had happened again. Mark didn’t know how he had allowed it to happen again; he had simply been laying on his stomach after knocking both him and Ethan over. The young man had been a giggling mess, the older grumbling underneath his breath in a mock upset manner. He had pressed his left cheek against the ice, feeling the familiar sting of cold as he looked over to his friend, noticing how Ethan stared up at the sky and just _beamed_. The young man had smiled as if he had just been told a joke, before glancing over his right shoulder. Mark _knew_ he wouldn’t have been looking at him in the first place, but he didn’t pull his gaze away when their eyes met. He should of. God, he should have. He should have just looked back up at the sky with playful defiance…but he didn’t. Mark didn’t know _why_ he did what he did…but he had just gazed back at him silently. Part of him could no longer feel the cold stink against his cheek as part of his face went flush in return, a numb feeling washing over his entire body; he hadn’t even been able to bring himself to blink. It was beyond of confusing…but then Ethan had sat up again…and it was gone again. Over as it had before. Mark didn’t even know what it _was_. He supposed it was just them being giddy friends. He didn’t mention anything as he pulled himself to his feet, a wide grin on his face as they spoke naturally, almost as if nothing had even happened.

But, once more, Mark was on the ice again. He hadn’t expected any less, of course, considering he was still new to the whole ordeal. The only times he had ever brought his daughter to the ice-skating rink, apart from the last, was when he stood from the sides and kept an eye on her. The man had never allowed himself to join, because he knew well enough that he wasn’t good at it, and he didn’t want to risk getting injured and not being able to get his daughter home. So, Mark had always found himself on the sidelines, seemingly cheering her on as he smiled to himself, watching her learn on her own. But, being around Ethan…he wanted to do more than just stay near the edge. Of course, he knew well enough that was the thing getting him into the trouble of falling over. “I’m telling you, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” Mark insisted, chuckling softly before eventually rolling onto his back, looking up at the sky as he always did whenever he fell. God, they must have been skating for at least an hour and a half at that point. They had allowed themselves to stay on the ice for quite some time, but Mark didn’t mind. He would get the most he could out of the experience. “I am past my days of learning. Maybe if you had shown up when I was like, ten, and taught me how to do this, I would understand. But I can’t. You came too late.” He tilted his head slightly, stifling his laughter as he looked up at Ethan. “I blame you.”

“It’s not my fault you’re clumsy!” Ethan exclaimed defensively, giggling happily as he cocked his head, looking down at him and hardly being able to contain his laughter. “Old people learn how to do new stuff all the time!” Mark gave a mock look of defense, his mouth opening with shock from the comment. “No, no, no, I’m not saying _you’re_ old,” the young man continued, trying to speak between broken segments of laughter. “I’m _saying_ that if _old people_ can do it, so can you.”

“You called me old,” Mark replied simply, smiling.

“Did not!” The young man laughed, shaking his head insistently. “You’re not old until you’re fifty, and that’s a fact.” Mark rolled his eyes playfully in return, extending his hand for the young man to finally help him up. Sure enough, Ethan did just that, steadying himself before grabbing the older man’s hand and finally pulling him to his feet. “One of these times I’m not gonna help you up,” Ethan mentioned, almost as if it was a threat that wouldn’t be taken lightly. “So…either you finally learn how to skate… _or_ you’re gonna be left on the ice.”

“How reassuring,” the man joked.

“I try,” the younger returned teasingly.

Mark smiled a bit, finally finding his balance as he stood on the ice, glancing around. Most of the people who had been there previously were no longer there; of course, they weren’t the _only_ ones at the ice-skating rink. The people from before had just been replaced. “This is much better than working,” Mark admitted, a grin on his face as he glanced back to his friend. He was being completely serious, of course. As much as the man was committed to a job, up to the point where he barely found enough time to take the day off…he just couldn’t sit back and watch life pass him by. Sure, Mark knew well enough that missing an ice-skating trip wouldn’t be the death of him, and it wouldn’t stop him from experiencing any similar endeavors in the future…but it was just the _concept_ of it. The fact that every day the only thing he did was go to work, and Ethan would just… _watch_ Charlotte. For once, the man wanted to be there for his daughter and his friend. Of course, what better way than to get the day off. It didn’t have to be a reoccurring experience, and it surely wasn’t _going_ to be…but Mark would enjoy the evening, and he wasn’t going to feel guilty over something he had no intention of regretting. And, he had enjoyed the day. He had enjoyed listening to his friend laugh, and watching his daughter skate happily; Mark had even enjoyed the little moments of stumbling over and landing knees first on the ice. Because, at the end of the day, every second was worth it.

“I think I’m starting to get the hang of this,” Mark mentioned, smiling a bit as he glanced over his right shoulder to Ethan, who grinned in return from the statement. The man stood there for a few seconds, a content feeling washing over him just at the sight of his friend, gliding carefully over to him on the ice; his eyes crinkled as he returned a warm smile, the corners of his lips peeking up, and his nose wrinkling ever so slightly. Just the simple way Ethan brushed his hand through his hair, the way his head cocked gently to his left…the soft gaze in his eyes as he looked back at him. It was just the things that Mark had never really… _noticed_ before. Sure, the man could only assume that they were always there, but he had never paid attention to them. He had simply focused on the stupid jokes Ethan would crack, or the taunting remarks with all good intention…never on any of the smaller things. It felt almost weird noticing them, if Mark had to be completely honest…it was as if he wasn’t _supposed_ to be aware of them. Nevertheless, it felt as if he couldn’t draw his eyes away, and he found himself stuck in that loop of just _looking_ at his friend…and Ethan looking back. The man swallowed thickly, simply standing there and trying not to make a fool of himself by stumbling over.

It was one of those things that adults would always insist when he was younger: holding eye contact. Being able to look someone in the eye when you were speaking, or when you wanted their attention, or when you wanted to be polite. It was always something his parents had spoken so highly of, insisting it was a skill that everyone needed to master. Yet, when Mark stood there on the ice with his gaze locked with Ethan’s…he felt like he was holding his breath. Like…like he wasn’t _supposed_ to be looking at him. Nevertheless, he supposed his friend was looking back. “I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks,” he admitted shyly, almost as if that would do something to break eye contact. Ethan smiled a bit in return though, glancing away as he giggled lightly. Mark’s heart _fluttered_ , his gaze lingering on his friend as he watched him do a quick spin. His eyes chasing him was seemingly unnatural. The way his heartbeat spiked and his face went flush, his body feeling hot despite the fact that they were quite literally on ice…it was a feeling he hadn’t felt in so long that he could hardly even pinpoint what it was. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat, turned to skate behind Ethan, but he supposed that was his first mistake. Within a few seconds, Mark was tripping over himself again, a sharp yelp as he fell down to his knees. The man could hear his daughter giggling softly from the side of him, obviously finding amusement in his misfortune. He let out a mock huff of frustration, shifting so that he was sitting on the ice, leaning back against the palms of his hand and looking up at his friend. This time, the eye contact wasn’t as… _weird_. It was natural. Something that you could share with a friend.

“You sure about that?” Ethan joked, grinning a bit as he turned around to face him. The man shrugged defeatedly. “Cause…it _looks_ like you fell over after barely moving an inch.”

“I was sabotaged,” Mark insisted.

“Oh, you were sabotaged?” The younger man scoffed playfully, glancing around as if to find the culprit. The man smiled to himself, shifting on the ice. “By whom, may I ask?”

“You,” the man chuckled, giving a shit-eating grin. “Don’t even bother hiding it, you’re just jealous of how _amazing_ I am at ice-skating. So you…” his voice trailed off, the man swallowing thickly. It was hard to think when Ethan was looking him in the eyes. “So you made the ice more slippery before I got here!” Mark continued, almost as-a-matter-of-factly, snapping his fingers as if he had come to the brightest philosophical conclusion. “You _knew_ that I was going to be here, so you decided to make yourself look better by making it more slippery to prove that you’re a better skater. _But_ , you’re _not_ a better skater. I just can’t show you how good of a skater I am because all of this has already been rigged. I declare a rematch.” Ethan scoffed a bit, giving a simple roll of his eyes.

“You can’t have a rematch, because this _isn’t_ a competition,” Ethan giggled.

“If it weren’t a competition, I would win,” the man returned.

“Oh really?” The young man questioned, giving a half-grin as he looked down at him. “Well, sorry Anakin, but I have the high ground.” Mark tossed his head back, letting out steady laughter.

“You underestimate my power!” He exclaimed between breaths. Ethan was in a giggling fit of hysterics. Mark smiled blissfully up at the sky. God, it was so much better than work…it was almost _surreal_. Was that even possible? The man didn’t question anything before he looked back to his friend, who wore a simple smug look. “Help me back up?” Mark questioned hopefully, extending his right hand for Ethan to accept.

“Absolutely not,” Ethan joked. “Get up on your own.”

“I can’t, the ice is too slippery for me,” the older man insisted, smiling a bit as the younger rolled his eyes, although he reluctantly took a step closer. “Won’t you shake a poor sinner’s hand?”

“Shut up,” the young man scoffed, although he smiled a bit when he eventually reached over for Mark’s hand. The older man smiled a bit, shifting and, without even thinking, deciding to tug Ethan down onto the ice. It was more spontaneous than when he had questioned his fellow co-worker to finish the rest of his financial records, that was for sure. Unlike when he had left work early, however, he didn’t have a reason for doing it. Mark had known well enough leaving work that he had intentions of getting changed and going to the ice-skating rink to see Charlotte and his friend; that was his reason. Instead, though, the older man had pulled down Ethan for absolutely no reason other than the fact that he didn’t know how to think before he did things. And, unlike back at the office, he regretted it when Ethan was pulled down on top of him. Mark sucked in a heavy breath, holding it in his lungs as he just looked _up_ at him. God, why did he look _up_ at him? Why not at the sky, or to the side with defiance? Nevertheless, he looked up at him, being met with piercing rain cloud blue eyes and that shit-eating grin. Ethan was hardly _bothered_. 

“I’m gonna break your bones in alphabetical order,” the young man threatened playfully, pulling himself up off of his friend as if nothing had happened. Mark lay there, his gaze fixed on the sky, his cheeks feeling impossibly flush and his heart racing at least one million miles per hour. He could feel his hands growing heated against the ice, a breath he forgot he was holding escaping his lungs. Having absolutely no idea what was going on would be considered an understatement. Mark felt as if he didn’t even have the willpower to _speak_ , let alone pull himself back up to his feet and act as if nothing had happened…act as if Ethan hadn’t just been on _top of him_. The man’s expression was seemingly blank, the only thing he could really remember how to do being _breathing_ as he stared up at the clouds. “If I help you up this time, are you gonna tug me over?” Ethan giggled, snapping Mark’s attention back to reality and out of a daydream. The man pulled himself to a sitting position, glancing to his friend, who hesitantly reached out his hand again. “I _swear to God_ if you pull me over,” he continued, trying not to laugh. Mark couldn’t help but smile in return, swallowing thickly as he finally found the will to _speak_.

“I won’t,” Mark promised. The young man took a step over, sincerely reaching his hand over. The older man smiled, reaching over and pulling himself to the blades of his skates. He grinned. “Told you so,” Mark whispered, allowing himself to hold his friend’s hand for a few more seconds, as if it was sinful, before he eventually let go. Almost as if nothing has happened…as if he was just going to _pretend_ nothing had happened. Ethan rolled his eyes playfully.

“I had the right to be doubtful,” he insisted. “You nearly _killed me_ the first time.”

“I didn’t nearly _kill you_ ,” the man chuckled in return, a faux scoff following as he crossed his arms loosely against his chest.

“You did!” Ethan exclaimed, biting his lip as he grinned. God, the young man was going to be the death of Mark…and the man didn’t even know _why_. He didn’t know _why_ he was bending over backward at the thought of seeing his friend smile…but he was. He was, and Mark didn’t know if he was supposed to roll with it or be ashamed of it. “I go out of my way to _help you_ and you try to knock me over! You traitor!” The young man gave him a playful shove, giggling when Mark almost stumbled over again. “Okay, okay, truce! Truce!” Ethan insisted, noticing how the older man pretended like he was about to reach over and shove him. “That was payback. Truce. We’re even.”

“No, I pulled you down because you sabotaged me,” Mark joked.

“ _Again_ with the sabotaging,” the young man groaned with mock annoyance. 

“Admit it,” the man returned. “You wouldn’t lie in front of Charlotte, would you?” He glanced over his left shoulder, smiling a bit at his daughter, who was currently skating in circles. Mark looked back to his friend, cocking his eyebrow as if he was questioning him. Ethan simply rolled his eyes again, although he gave a reluctant shrug of his shoulders. “So you _do_ admit it!”

“I didn’t admit anything!” Ethan laughed. “You’re making it up in your head!” The older man smiled a bit, resting his hands on his hips as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Alright, how about this. I _actually_ give you a few tips about ice-skating, instead of you have to try to figure it out on your own, and _you_ stop being so paranoid about me supposedly _sabotaging_ you.” Mark cocked his eyebrow slightly, pursing his lips as if he was intrigued by the offer. “It’s an offer you can’t resist,” the young man insisted, gesturing his head to the rest of the rink. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be skating instead of falling over?”

“You’re pushing it,” Mark mentioned.

“Sorry _boss_ ,” the young man returned, grinning playfully as he gestured his head, almost as if to follow him. “Come on, it’s simple. It’s the same thing as rollerblading.”

“Yeah, except the blade is thinner than the wheels,” Mark pointed out. Ethan turned carefully on his skates, the satisfying sound of the blades scraping against the ice piercing the air, a shudder running down the older man’s spine in return. “Besides, it’s easy for you to say. You’ve been doing this for a while. I am but a _beginner_ , as much as I hate to say it.” The young man smiled a bit, glancing over his shoulder, obviously not surprised by the statement. “I know,” Mark continued smugly. “You could have sworn I’m an expert, huh?”

“Yeah, _sure_ ,” Ethan said. “I almost mistook you for Tonya Harding.”

“It’s the hair.”

“You’re an idiot,” the young man giggled, brushing his hand through his own hair, his chin rested lightly on his shoulder as he glanced back to him. Mark simply smiled in return, treating the statement as a compliment as he reluctantly nodded his head. “Now, come on. You wouldn’t wanna get shown up by your own _daughter_ , would you? I mean, she obviously knows what she’s doing.” Mark glanced at his daughter, who was happily gliding over to Ethan. Although she had to curve her feet in slightly to get herself to stop, she obviously had a better sense of what she was doing than Mark did, without a doubt. He couldn’t help but smile though. Humiliating as it was, it was an accomplishment that the man would allow his daughter to have. “You’re the king of ice-skating, remember?”

“Well, I never said _that_ -“

“Just skate over here already!” Ethan exclaimed, rolling his eyes with mock frustration as he gestured his hand over. The older man looked down at his skates. He didn’t even know if that was an _option_. After all, he wasn’t exactly _good_ at ice-skating. It was more of a love-hate relationship. He loved to hate it. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re _scared_.”

“Scared? Me?” Mark scoffed. “Mark Fischbach _never_ gets scared.”

“That’s funny, cause you look scared,” the young man chuckled, resting his hands on his hips. Ethan gestured the free space beside him. “Don’t look at your feet while you’re skating, it’s only gonna mess you up. Just try to focus on balancing. Put your arms out if you need to, like you’re walking a tight rope. Like you’re the biggest act in the circus, and if you fall over you’re screwed.” Mark swallowed thickly.

“That’s not exactly calming, but thanks,” he replied sardonically.

“Oh, you get what I mean,” Ethan mentioned. “And try not to make it like you’re shuffling your feet. That’s not the point of skating. If you push yourself forward, it should be like you’re gliding. As long as you do it correctly, of course. So don’t try to force it. Shift your weight from one foot to the other as you skate, too. If you kind of divide it evenly, you’re not gonna get anywhere. And lean forward, but only slightly. Not a lot.”

“That’s a very vague statement,” Mark chuckled.

“Put your faith in me for once,” the young man joked. Ethan smiled a bit, his eyes flickering slightly, his smile kind as he waved him over again. “I’ve never done anything to hurt you.”

Mark gave a weak smile. Not physically, the man supposed, but for almost the entire day he found himself at the brink of questioning his sanity whenever the two of them did anything as simple as making eye contact. The way his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest, or if he had forgotten how to breathe…the air getting seemingly trapped in his lungs. The older man would find himself forgetting how to speak…not like words even had meaning during the moments where their gaze was so strongly locked. Ethan had the man _tripped over himself_ trying to get back to what he had considered being normal. The normal where they were joking around, laughing hysterically without a care in the world. Where their gaze would pass over each other without being set in stone…without making Mark fucking _panic_. Without making his stomach churn and his knees go weak; as if Ethan _knew_ that looking him in the eyes would make him fumble over, falling onto his hands like an idiot. Mark hadn’t had friends for a while, but he knew well enough that this wasn’t how they acted around each other. This…wasn’t _right_. Unless he was remembering things wrong? But he didn’t think that was it. The older man had experienced a similar feeling, of course, although he couldn’t remember _when_. It was like scent though…something as simple as a scent could make him feel nostalgic, but this was an _emotion_. Was that…different?

“Yeah, you’re right,” Mark mentioned.

“Yet,” Ethan whispered.

“You’re lucky my daughter is here,” the man threatened playfully.

“You wouldn’t do it anyway,” the young brunette returned, although he giggled a bit and pretended to shield himself. Mark rolled his eyes. “Now come on, skate over! We’re wasting _daylight_ here.” The man paused, grinning a bit as he sucked in a soft breath. “You can do this,” Ethan breathed out.

“Of course I can,” Mark replied cockily.

“Well, now I take it back,” the young man teased.

“Well, you believe in me, don’t you Charlotte?” Mark questioned, his attention returning to his daughter, who stood beside Ethan. The young girl giggled, reluctantly nodding her head in return to his question. “And that’s all that matters,” he continued.

“Do it!” Charlotte giggled.

“You’re awfully persistent,” the older man returned, although he smiled. He hummed underneath his breath, shifting his weight carefully over to his right foot before pushing off with his left. And, as Ethan had advised, Mark did his best to bring his left foot down automatically, as he had been doing before. The man supposed that was what had been causing him to trip. Now, however, he glided over carefully on his right foot, an obvious smile on his face as he glanced to Ethan. The young man smiled proudly, his eyes flickering as he looked down at the man’s skates. “I dunno how to stop though,” Mark added quickly, looking down at his feet as if his simple _gaze_ would be enough to get him to stop. Nevertheless, he felt Ethan reach over for his shoulders, forcing him to a stop once he was standing beside him. Mark smiled shyly, glancing over at his friend with mere appreciation. The young man looked back at him, allowing one of his hands to remain on his shoulder for a few seconds. Not like Mark noticed, of course, because his body felt absolutely numb for a few seconds as they looked into each other’s eyes briefly. The man noticed how the young brunette’s eyes flickered in return. Was the slight discomfort… _mutual_? Mark swallowed thickly, quickly glancing at his daughter as she smiled up at him. “Daddy told you he could do it,” he mentioned.

“Wouldn’t have done it without _me_ though,” Ethan reminded him.

“Always looking to take validation away from me, aren’t ya?” Mark joked, looking to his friend again. Ethan shrugged sheepishly, biting his lip again as he smiled. The older man’s eyes flickered, his range of focus being rerouted to Ethan’s lips; that wasn’t right. Mark redirected his gaze again, looking Ethan in the eyes. “I might have to break the truce and _shove you_.”

Ethan laughed happily from the statement, obviously content. The older man glanced ahead. “I think I could skate around the rink if I wanted to,” Mark continued, a half-smile on his face as he pursed his lips. The young man attempted to stifle his laughter. “Something funny, heapass?” Mark scoffed playfully. The brunette swallowed his laughter for a few more seconds before eventually erupting from the nickname, giggling between breaths. “You’re _literally_ a child,” the man joked.

“I guess we’re _both_ stupid, cause you can’t _possibly_ think you could skate around the rink,” Ethan laughed. He giggled for a few more seconds. Of course, just when Mark thought it was over, Ethan was laughing again. The older man couldn’t help but grin, simply rolling his eyes playfully from his behavior. God, his excitement was simply contagious. “You _can’t_ be serious!”

“I am _completely_ serious,” Mark insisted.

“Who _lied_ to you!?” Ethan howled. 

“It’s not even that funny!” The man continued, although he couldn’t help but chuckle. He simply rolled his eyes, leaning carefully against Ethan in subtle attempts to shove him over. The young brunette just laughed. “I _will_ shove you over if you keep laughing,” Mark threatened, grinning. Ethan just smiled.

“No you won’t,” he whispered teasingly. 

Mark rolled his eyes playfully. 

Ethan was right.

∞§—————§∞

Nothing but the familiar sounds of keyboard keys being pressed down and a laptop mouse being clicked filled the room as Mark sat at the edge of his bed, his computer on his lap as he continued working on his presentation. The meeting would occur that very Friday, and the man knew well enough that the only way to actually have a chance at the promotion would be to have a better PowerPoint presentation than Joseph. Because, as always, he was being overlooked _yet again_. Mark muttered underneath his breath, glancing at the analog clock that sat on the nightstand. 8:57. They had finished dinner almost two hours ago, and Mark had insisted that he needed to finish up his slideshow, leaving Ethan to choose whether or not he wanted to stay for another hour. The young man had, of course, agreed, and he and Charlotte had been sitting in the living room ever since. Mark didn’t know if he had left of course, by that point, but the man had intentions of tucking his daughter into bed…just as soon as he was finished working on everything. Of course, every time he looked at a different slide, he was reminded of the fact that it probably wasn’t as good as Joseph’s. And, even if it was, Eric and his boss probably wouldn’t see it like that. The only sliver of hope the man had left about the situation was the fact that although Joseph had been called in by Eric, Mark had been called in by Eric’s _boss_. Surely that meant something more…surely that meant how other people were noticing him.

It was the only reassuring thing about the entire scenario. If it weren’t for that, Mark would have already called up Eric and insisted that he would no longer be attending the meeting. Why bother wasting time and effort on something where he didn’t even have a chance? That was Mark’s way of thinking about it, at least. He supposed there would be so many other people who would disagree, using some bullshit quote of _‘you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take’_ , never taken into consideration the humiliation that could come with taking the shot. Nonetheless, he could only wish that this time would be different; that, this time, he would be able to catch someone’s attention for the better. Mark wanted to believe that life was finally going his way for once, but he knew well enough that at the end of the day…life was completely unfair. It often didn’t reward those who deserved it, and that was just the way it was. That was the way it had _always_ been, and the man had been brought up to think nothing else of it; Mark had been brought up to hardly acknowledge how life was practically a slap in the face. The only good thing about life seemed to be the people who touched it. 

Mark curled his fist loosely, yawning into it before he continued typing. The presentation was almost finished with what he considered to be satisfactory; after that, the only thing the man would have to do was memorize it. Everyone knew that someone who memorized their presentation instead of looking off of the PowerPoint was someone who _truly_ was looking to impress. Mark had to impress not only his boss, but his boss’s boss…as well as everyone else in the room, who held similar positions of power as Eric did. All of them were above him, all of them could get him fired with a simple snap of their fingers and little explanation, and all of them were looking for someone who meant business. Although it seemed as if Joseph had been practically _summoned_ for this position, Mark would do everything in his power to be noticed. He would memorize his presentation, as well as additional statements he could throw in. The man would ask questions, he would redirect attention, he would do anything he could to stop himself from looking like an idiot. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but it certainly wasn’t something that Mark wanted to happen. If he slipped up once, he knew that would be what people remembered him for, because it seemed to be coded in human nature to ignore the good someone does and focus on the bad. If he fumbled over his words… _that_ would be what he was remembered for. Not for his unique PowerPoint slides, or how well he had spoken the rest of the presentation, or how he had answered people’s questions without skipping a beat. If Mark messed up…he would be remembered for that little imperfection…and that was the scariest thing in the world. Knowing that _everything_ could just go down the drain if he stammered over a word, or took too long to answer a question, or simply got lost in thought.

Mark wouldn’t allow it to happen to him, though. He had come too far for all of this to be yanked out of his reach. The man had to suffer through years of being tormentedly overlooked, and that wasn’t something he would be so quick to forget. He knew that everyone else would soon ignore it…they would think nothing of it, and that would be considered just another moment of the past. But not for Mark. _Never_ for Mark. He knew well enough that would be something that would stick with him throughout his entire career, no matter how far he went and how much higher he climbed. The man brushed his hand through his hair with frustration, allowing himself to close his laptop for a few seconds, resting it beside him on the bed. Mark found himself rubbing his hands roughly down his face, his skin being pulled down slightly before he fell back onto his bed, looking up at the ceiling…as if the light fixture would be able to tell him what his PowerPoint presentation was missing. The man didn’t know _what_ it was missing, but he was just looking for something that would…tie the presentation together. Something that would make it more than just a boring presentation. Not that it was boring…but he knew it had most likely been done before. It needed originality…being the same as everyone else wasn’t going to get him a promotion.

The man pulled himself up into a sitting position as he listened to the sound of his daughter giggling from her bedroom, which could be heard even through his closed bedroom door. Mark smiled to himself, shifting on his bed and pushing his computer even farther beside him. Although, the man allowed himself to frown for a few seconds once he realized that Ethan was most likely tucking her in, something that he had promised to do…but had got too wrapped up in work for. Mark sighed, glancing at the clock again and cocking his eyebrow slightly. 9:14. God, time really flew by past when he was hardly paying attention to _anything_ but work…he knew well enough it wasn’t the best for him, but surely he would be able to rest after Friday. Once Friday game, it would pretty much be decided whether or not he would be receiving a promotion…if he got it, he would find the time to relax; if he didn’t get it, the man supposed he would be too _miserable_ to be stressed over anything. Of course, that left the weekend for Mark to pull himself together and stop acting like a fool…just so he would be able to drag himself to work and act as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t like Mark would be able to quit…sure, he could, but where was he supposed to go? The company he worked for was the only one he had ever known…he didn’t have another job to turn to. 

If Mark didn’t get the promotion, he would still have to show up to the office and work in his cubicle like every other day. He would have to pretend that nothing was upsetting him, and he was to show no sign of disrespect toward Eric. He would continue doing the same old _boring_ job that he had been doing for years, and the man wouldn’t say another word about it. The only difference would be that one of the other cubicles would be vacant, which would soon become occupied by someone entering the company. Overall, Mark would have to act as if nothing was bothering him…as if the fact that he had been so _close_ to finally gaining something for himself, only to lose it, wasn’t eating away at him. The man supposed it was one of the most painful things about being an adult…being expected to keep your mouth shut when the world was just picking away at you _relentlessly_. It was awful…but life was unfair, and that was just the way it was. Mark just hoped that his daughter wasn’t upset about the ordeal of her father seemingly putting work before. It wasn’t like he did it intentionally; after all, he had cleared his schedule spontaneously at the thought of being able to go ice-skating with her. However…Mark found that he spent far too much time dedicating himself to work when it hardly gave him jack-shit in return. Mark could pour his time, dedication, and passion into an assignment…and he wouldn’t be given the same recompense he received when he merely _smiled_ at his daughter. Nowhere near as close. 

Mark hesitantly pulled himself up from his bed, carefully walking over to his bedroom door. He opened it carefully, peeking his head out and staring into the hallway. Sure enough, which he could barely see through Charlotte’s bedroom door, Ethan was crouched carefully near the edge of her bed. He held what appeared to be a picture book in his hand, the young girl smiling a bit and reaching over to point at one of the pictures. Mark smiled to himself, carefully shifting out of his bedroom. He had no intention of interrupting the two, but he really just wanted to get a closer look. He could just hardly believe how good Ethan was with his daughter…the older man would have placed bets that _any_ other babysitter would have simply just left after a few minutes, especially considering how Mark had been home the entire time. It wasn’t like Ethan _needed_ to stay. Nonetheless, he did, and he did it all while wearing a smile and hardly batting an eye. It was genuine…it wasn’t like the young man was wearing some facade as an excuse to keep employment. After all, Mark would be able to see right through it…the way he treated Charlotte was _real_ , and the older man couldn’t help but feel relieved knowing that his best friend, the young girl’s _babysitter_ , actually seemed to like kids. It wasn’t something that was commonly found in people of Ethan’s age. Sure, it wasn’t exactly _obscure_ …but, at the young man’s age, most people were focused on taking care of themselves before they took care of a child. Although Mark had eventually assumed the role of a father, it certainly wasn’t the first thing that had been on his mind.

He found himself carefully leaning against the frame of Charlotte’s bedroom door, peering in carefully. His eyes flickered with mere amusement as his daughter pointed to another one of the pictures, obviously impressed. Mark squinted his eyes to get a better look at the title. _Where the Wild Things Are._ It was something that the man himself was familiar with, considering he had read it himself when he was a child, but it was never something he had shared with his daughter. After all, all the young girl had mentioned when she was younger were the monsters under her bed, or in her closet, or behind the curtains. Introducing a book about monsters that lived on an island certainly wasn’t the best thing Mark could have done when he was raising her. Nevertheless, his daughter sat contently in bed, listening happily as Ethan read to her. It was something that not even Kaitlyn had done so often for her. The man could recall when he was younger…his girlfriend would go for a week at a time without reading to their daughter during the evening, with the simple excuse of her throat being sore…or simply because she didn’t want to. Being a storyteller was a role Mark had assumed himself after about the sixth occurrence, and it was something that he didn’t mind doing. He was glad that Ethan seemed to do it so willingly…the fact that he was a better caretaker than Charlotte’s own mother was something that would never cease to surprise Mark. 

“And when he came to the place where the wild things are,” Ethan continued gently, not looking up from the page, pointing carefully to the illustrations beside it, “they roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth…and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws.” Charlotte’s eyes widened slightly, the young girl pulling the covers up a bit farther. “They look pretty scary, huh?” Ethan mentioned, glancing over his right shoulder at the young girl, who nodded hesitantly in return. The young man smiled a bit, clearing his throat before looking down at the page.

“Until Max said ‘Be still’,” Ethan continued, “and tamed them with his magic trick of staring into all their yellow eyes without blinking once…and they were all frightened and called him the most wild thing of all…and made him _king_ of all wild things.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose slightly, allowing herself to sit up.

“This book is weird,” Charlotte mentioned. Mark stifled his laughter, although the young man allowed himself to giggle in return. “Monsters are scary, not nice.”

“Well, these monsters are nice,” the young man returned simply, pointing over carefully to one of the illustrations. “See, he’s smiling. Cause Max is the king of all wild things now. He conquered the monsters, so they aren’t going to bother him.” The young girl looked down at the page with surprise, almost as if she didn’t believe it.

“There're monsters in my closet,” she mentioned.

“There are?” Ethan questioned. Charlotte nodded in return. “Are they scary?” The young girl nodded again. “Well, you don’t have to be scared of them. They can’t hurt you during the day, did you know that?” She nodded her head again. “Well…did you know that they can’t hurt you when you’re in bed, either?”

“Nu-uh,” Charlotte whispered.

“It’s the truth,” Ethan insisted. “Not even when the night-light is off. I’m gonna tell you something, but you gotta promise you’re gonna believe me.” The young girl pursed her lips before nodding her head. Mark could feel his heart seemingly melting inside of him, crossing his arms loosely across his chest as he listened in as well. He would never fully understand _how_ Ethan was so amazing with kids, but it surely wasn’t something he was going to take for granted. “Night-lights actually don’t keep the monsters away. They don’t do _anything_.”

“Yeah they do,” the young girl interjected.

“Nope,” the young man replied, giving a justified shake of his head. “They only make you _think_ that they do something, so you’ll be extra brave. What if I told you that if you turned the night-light off, the monsters _still_ wouldn’t be able to get you?” Charlotte paused, obviously not knowing what to make of the statement. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, just something to think about.” 

She nodded.

“Want me to continue reading?” Ethan questioned. The young girl smiled once again, her eyes crinkling as she nodded her head eagerly. Mark pulled himself away from the doorframe, turning into the hallway. He supposed once Ethan was finished reading her a bedtime story, he would have to leave. The least Mark could do was wait in the living room to say goodbye to him. The man sighed contently to himself as he listened to the young brunette continue reading to his daughter, his voice exaggerated when the characters spoke, putting emphasis on certain words to bring the story to life. Mark fell back onto the couch, smiling as he listened to his daughter giggling again. She certainly did love being around Ethan. God, he could remember how he was all the young girl could ramble on about when she was still going to daycare. How he had read a particular book to her, or how he had brought a new coloring book, or how he had braided her hair for her. It had always been comforting for the man to know that his daughter was being taken care of, of course. For the first time, despite being enrolled in a series of different daycares, Charlotte hadn’t seemed to mind the one she was in. That was all that Mark needed, of course. 

Mark hummed, glancing over his shoulder at one of the picture books that had been left on the couch. He smiled a bit to himself. _Goodnight Moon_. Just the title of the book itself was more than enough to take the man back to when his daughter was just a baby…when she had two parents. It was weird, though. In a sense, everything had sort of just cycled back. Sure, Ethan wasn’t her father…but he still took care of her. The two of them had a stable friendship, one that allowed them to confide in each other…in a sense, part of it was the same. At least, through Charlotte’s eyes. Mark supposed things would change when she started school…when Ethan wouldn’t be able to come over as much. But it wasn’t something that they wouldn’t be able to handle. After all, they had been through bigger jumps in the past. This wouldn’t be any different. Although, the man knew well enough that his daughter wouldn’t be the only one upset with the absence of the young brunette. Mark, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, grew comforted by the reoccurrence of Ethan being around the house. He was just…always there. In the morning, in the afternoon, at dinner, sometimes in the evenings. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Mark, and it would certainly be something he would miss once the young girl started school. Being able to joke with him in person…being able to see his smile. Was that weird? Surely not.

The man glanced up from his hands when he heard the sound of someone sliding into the living room. Mark smiled to himself when he noticed Ethan. The young man looked back at him, flinching slightly before giving an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “You can’t just scare me like that!” He exclaimed, grinning a bit and letting out a heavy sigh of relief.

“I didn’t even move,” Mark chuckled in return.

“Well, I _thought_ you were working on your presentation in your bedroom,” Ethan explained, gesturing his head down the hallway. “You know, in your _bedroom_? So don’t blame me when all of a sudden I get ready to go and _you’re_ sitting here. I didn’t even know it was you for a second because it wouldn’t have made any sense!”

“Ah yes, it’s so weird that I’m sitting in the living room of my own house,” the man joked.

The young brunette rolled his eyes in retaliation. “You know what I mean,” he giggled. Ethan shifted, glancing over his shoulder to look down at his shoes, which rested near the door, before reluctantly walking over to the couch to sit beside Mark. The man smiled a bit, shifting over to make room, glad that his friend had decided to stay a few more minutes instead of leaving. 

“You’re a really good storyteller,” Mark mentioned softly, smiling as the younger man relaxed against the couch. Ethan glanced at him, a sheepish grin spreading across his face in return. “I mean, I know I say this a lot…but you’re _so_ good with her. I’m serious, like…you’re so good with kids. I know you worked at a daycare center, and I know you get _paid_ to do this, but-”

“I don’t do it because I get paid,” the young man mentioned, quickly shutting the accusation down, the smile still visible. “I do it because she’s a good kid. I’ve never met any girl like Charlotte, did you know that?” Mark gave a half-smile, shaking his head. “Charlotte is beyond unique, Mark. She’s just…I don’t even know. I mean, she’s _adorable_.” Ethan’s eyes flickered before they locked with Mark’s. “And, Imean…it also helps that her dad is one of my best friends and one of the greatest people I know…the only person who has _ever_ seemed to genuinely care about my health.” 

Mark swallowed thickly, his heart practically _flittering_ in his chest. That feeling was back…just the feeling of knowing it was the two of them in an empty room, looking at each other as they sat on a couch beside each other. “Well, I think you’re pretty amazing too,” he mentioned, his voice soft. The man didn’t even know _why_ he was whispering…but he was. Ethan shifted a bit closer. Mark could feel his heart skipping a beat in his chest, his breath getting caught in his throat. The feeling was suffocating, but in a blood rushing way. “I mean, you’re really the only friend I have…you’re funny, you’re kind…” his voice trailed off as he tried to remember how to speak. Instead, Mark gave a sheepish smile.

“Yeah?” Ethan whispered. Mark felt himself leaning in slightly.

“Yeah,” the man confirmed, his voice coming out airy. Their eyes refused to look away from each other. But, just like that, it was over. Ethan quickly cleared his throat, redirecting his attention over to the coffee table.

“I _really_ need to get going,” Ethan mentioned, giggling a bit afterward. The man allowed himself to lean back slightly, regaining his composure, not knowing what had happened as he nodded. “I mean, it’s already pretty late and everything, you probably still have to work on your presentation for Friday…right?” Mark cleared his throat, nodding a bit in return. “Text me when you’re finished though, I wanna see it,” the man mentioned, smiling naturally. Had Ethan not experienced _any_ of that? 

“Sure thing,” Mark confirmed, smiling a bit. “Sure thing…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was the chapter for today. Just a little bit of Mark’s perspective. We STAN falling for someone without even knowing it. The slow burn is burning a bit faster, but we’re still gonna have the ever so admirable pining. Don’t think I’ll let you guys get it just yet, lol.   
> Thank you guys so much for the support! We’re super close to 10k hits which is just-  
> That’s over 300 hits per chapter, so I can’t thank you enough for that! Also, I love hearing how people were actually RECOMMENDED this fic. Like, that is such a surreal thing to comprehend, I literally can’t wrap my head around the fact that people are sharing this with their friends-  
> Thank you so much for that!!! Seriously, that is amazing. I feel unworthy, lmao
> 
> Love you,  
> Simply!
> 
> ∞§—————§∞
> 
> If you’re looking to discuss chapters, chat, or suggest fanfic ideas: [Reddit User](https://www.reddit.com/user/simplestability)


	28. What if it's Us?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Common Sense: Okay, FFITA and BOM  
> Me: Oh, hey, I wrote those!  
> Common Sense: They’re acronyms  
> Me: Yup  
> Common Sense: So, when you read it, you say “Fifty Feet in the Air” and “Baby of Mine”  
> Me: That sounds about right  
> Common Sense: *Or*, you could say F-F-I-T-A and B-O-M  
> Me: Coolio  
> Common Sense: FFITA and BOM  
> Me: Fafeeta and Bomb
> 
> (Also thank you for 10k hits, lol <3 )

_“‘Now stop!’ Max said, and sent the wild things off to bed without their supper,” Ethan continued, his voice in a hushed whisper as he spoke to the young girl. Charlotte sat up eagerly, pointing down to the illustration of two monsters leaning contently against trees, although one of them looked more in discomfort than the other. The young man smiled, nodding his head slightly from the motion. “And Max, the king of all wild things…was lonely, and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all. Then all around from far away across the world he smelled good things to eat…so he gave up being king of where the wild things are.” The young girl’s eyes widened with surprise from the statement. Obviously giving up the title of a king wasn’t something Charlotte had commonly heard, so it was nevertheless surprising. Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter, glancing over his right shoulder at the young girl again. She sat contently in her bed, the covers draping over her, since she had allowed the young brunette to tuck her in. “Something wrong with that sentence?” Ethan teased, looking back down to the page. The illustration depicted a young boy in a porcelain white onesie, an obvious crown sitting on his head as he sat underneath a merlot and mustard yellow tent; a monster slept peacefully beside him._

_“How come?” Charlotte questioned, wrinkling her nose slightly._

_“How come what?” Ethan pondered, his voice continuing to remain in a whisper. He shifted beside her, looking down at the page again. A careful smile curled up onto his lips. “How come he gave up being the king of where the wild things are?” Charlotte pursed her lips for a few seconds before reluctantly nodding her head. “Well, think about it, Max must be missing his family. He likes being the king of all wild things…but sometimes you have to swallow your pride so you can keep in touch with people you love. Does that make sense?” The young girl blinked, shrugging her shoulders. The man gave a humored sigh, his eyes lingering down on the page. The book always reminded him of the situation of him and his parents…part of him just wished he could get over himself and just_ call them _. Even if it was just for a few minutes…even if it was simply to inform them that he was alive. It didn’t have to be lengthy, or interesting, and it certainly didn’t have to include him giving the backstory of what had happened since the last time they had spoken. Part of Ethan had just…_ forgotten _what their voices sounded like. He still had photos in his camera roll of what they looked like, but he knew well enough he would have forgotten as well if they weren’t there for him to study. It wasn’t anything he was proud of, of course…the whole ordeal was awfully embarrassing. But, the young man assumed that his parents hadn’t quite made any attempts to call him either…they were even. “Sometimes, even if you love something so much…you have to remember to put your family first.”_

_“Oh,” Charlotte breathed out, smiling a bit. She finally understood._

_“Want me to keep reading?” Ethan asked._

_“Uh-huh,” the young girl confirmed._

_The young brunette smiled to himself, looking back down at the page. He cleared his throat, being met with the illustration of Max, an obvious smile on his face as he waved from the comfort of blush tinted boat, lemon yellow sails, and a dandelion tinted flag to match. A monster stood proudly on the edge of what appeared to be a cliff, a threatening gaze in his eye, although it wore an evil smile that told otherwise. “But the word things cried, ‘Oh please don’t go…we’ll eat you up, we love you so!’.” Charlotte sunk into her bed slightly. “And Max said, ‘No!’”_

_“Scary…” the young girl whispered._

_“The monsters are scary?” Ethan asked, glancing at her. She paused before nodding her head. “Well, I guess they are,” he mentioned, humming underneath his breath as he looked down at them. “These monsters aren’t real though. They’re only storybook monsters…that means, when I close the book, they all go away at the end.” Charlotte’s eyes lit up, as if this was news to her. “Yep, it’s the truth. You’ve hardly got anything to worry about.”_

_“Okay,” the young girl murmured. She shifted over slightly, carefully leaning against Ethan. He glanced down at her, a warm feeling tingling in his heart with there mere sight of how she so naturally had become accustomed to him being there. Charlotte had grown used to hugging him, and climbing on him, and sharing story after story with him. Although part of the young man felt as if he was intruding, he just couldn’t help but assume a parenting role. Not to say that Ethan was her parent of course, no, that was definitely a boundary he had no intention of touching, let alone_ crossing _. That would be infringing on Mark’s situation, and he certainly didn’t want that. The older man was her father, not him, and for the time being, all she needed was one. After all, that could grow to change when Mark finally found someone he could love and trust around his daughter, but that certainly didn’t seem to be anything the man was rushing into. Until then, of course, the young man would be there for Charlotte whenever she needed him. At least, until school started. That was another obstacle, of course, one that wouldn’t be crossed until another nine months._

_“The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth,” Ethan whispered, “and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws. But Max stepped into his private boat and waved good-bye…and sailed back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day. And into the night of his very own room, where he found his supper waiting for him…and it was still hot.” The young man smiled to himself, allowing the young girl to look down at the picture before he reluctantly closed it, resting it on the nightstand beside her. She smiled happily, sinking down onto the bed and pulling the covers up slightly. “Now, as weird as the story may be,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders, “I think it’s good. I mean, I read it when_ I _was your age. Even_ before _I was your age. Did you know that?” Charlotte shook her head. “Kinda hard to imagine me any younger, huh?”_

_“Yeah,” the young girl confirmed. She thought about it for a few seconds. “Whatcha look like?”_

_“What did I look like?” Charlotte nodded her head. The man pursed his lips. “Kinda the same…just younger.” He let out a soft giggle. “I know that doesn’t make any sense, but I promise you that if I had any pictures you would understand.”_

_“Do you?”_

_“Do I what?” Ethan asked._

_“Have pictures?”_

_The young man smiled to himself. All of the photo albums that he had were at his mother’s house…it certainly wasn’t something he had bothered asking her for over text after he had gotten kicked out of college. After all, they were the last thing that he needed. Of course, Ethan supposed that it would be something nice to have at the end of the day…something he knew well enough he wouldn’t be able to retrieve because part of him was too humiliated to go back there. So, the man simply shrugged his shoulders. “My mom has some pictures,” he admitted, thinking to himself. “They’re at her house, though, so I can’t go get them.”_

_“How come?” Charlotte questioned. Children sure were good at prying out answers; that was something that came with the ability to relentlessly ask questions, even if they knew the responses wouldn’t even interest them. Nevertheless, the young girl pressed on, shifting and cocking her head so her ear was resting lightly against her shoulder._

_“Well, my mom and dad don’t always agree with me on everything,” the young man admitted, thinking for a few more seconds. “So, since we don’t agree…we don’t talk to each other.” Charlotte pursed her lips, eventually pouting. “Yeah, I know, kinda confusing. It doesn’t make sense when you’re a kid. You couldn’t imagine not talking to your daddy, huh?”_

_“Nu-uh…” Charlotte whispered._

_“Things are different when you’re an adult,” Ethan admitted. He thought about it for a few seconds, hesitantly looking down at his hands. “But you don’t gotta worry about any of that for a while…cause you’re still just a kid. Don’t worry about adult stuff when you’re young…it isn’t as exciting as you think it might be.” The young girl smiled shyly, eventually nodding her head in genuine understanding. Ethan smiled back at her in return. “Good,” he breathed out finally. The young man cleared his throat, fishing through his back pocket for his phone before checking the time. It was time for him to get going. “Well, I’m afraid I’ve gotta go,” he admitted, gesturing his head to the bedroom door before slipping his phone away. “I’ll be back again the same time tomorrow, though. Maybe I can teach you how to play some of the board games you have, you sure do have a lot of them.”_

_Ethan paused, eventually standing to his feet. “Tell your daddy I said goodbye when he comes in to say goodnight,” he reminded her. The young man didn’t want to disturb Mark while he was working on his presentation…after all, it was surely more important than sharing a simple conversation. Friday was coming up soon, and the brunette didn’t want his friend stressing over an unfinished PowerPoint slide, all because Ethan hadn’t been able to just walk by his bedroom door and leave. “Oh, and tell him he did a great job ice-skating today,” he added, a justified nod following. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”_

_“Okay,” the young girl chirped. She shifted on her bed before outstretching her arms slightly, making grabby hands up toward him. “Hug,” Charlotte insisted. The young man gave a watery smile in return, his mouth opening slightly in a breathless smile filled with mere surprise. It wasn’t a request he had expected, to say the least. The brunette appreciated it nonetheless, of course. So, Ethan reluctantly leaned down, allowing the young girl to carefully reach her arms up around his shoulders, giggling to herself. Ethan sighed contently, hugging her back gently before he eventually pulled away. He pressed a soft kiss against her forehead, his heart warming as she squealed gleefully in return._

_“Goodnight,” Ethan whispered, gently tapping her nose and watching as her eyes crossed slightly. He grinned, pulling away from the bed, giving another small wave before allowing himself to exit her bedroom. The young man glanced at Mark’s open door. He supposed that he could poke his head in to say goodbye, but he knew well enough that the conversation would only continue, and it wouldn’t simply end there. That wasn’t something Ethan wanted, so he allowed himself to walk past. He smiled to himself, sliding on his socks down the hallway, giggling softly underneath his breath as he eventually stumbled into the living room. Ethan noticed someone sitting on the couch out of the corner of his eye. The man glanced over his right shoulder, flinching slightly from the sight of Mark sitting on the couch. His heart skipped a beat in his chest, the young man groaning with mock frustration when he realized it was only his friend. The older man sat there, cocking his eyebrow and giving a humored grin in return._

_“You can’t just scare me like that!” Ethan choked out, giggling softly before he rested a hand against his heart, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. The older man gave a simple role off his eyes._

_“I didn’t even move,” Mark mentioned, laughing softly._

_“Well, I thought you were working on your presentation in your bedroom,” the younger man explained, allowing himself to gesture his head down the hallway to where Mark’s bedroom was. He certainly hadn’t expected his friend to be in the_ living room _. Of course, it wasn’t anything he was going to allow himself to complain about. After all, any least he would actually be able to say goodbye to his friend before leaving. “You know, in your_ bedroom _? So don’t blame me when all of a sudden I get ready to go and_ you’re _sitting here. I didn’t even know it was you for a second before it wouldn’t have made any sense!” Ethan sighed with mock exaggeration._

_“Ah, yes,” Mark confirmed, a faux sardonic undertone as he leaned his elbow carefully on the arm of the couch, “it’s so weird that I’m sitting in the living room of my own house.” He let out a huff of laughter, wearing that same shit-eating grin._

_Ethan rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he mentioned, although he allowed himself to giggle. The young man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing over his shoulder to his pair of shoes, which sat carefully propped up against a wall. He supposed he should get going…after all, the young brunette liked to stick to a routine. Of course, Ethan knew well enough that staying a few extra minutes wouldn’t kill him. Besides, it was nice to get to talk to the older man. After dinner, his friend had simply gone to his room to work on the rest of his presentation. The young brunette had np complains, of course, he wouldn’t allow himself to complain about such a thing…but part of him just wanted to_ see _Mark. He didn’t know if that was weird, so he kept the comment to himself. Reluctantly, Ethan walked over to the couch. Mark shifted over, making more room for him. Ethan wore a shy smile, falling back onto the couch._

_“You’re a really good storyteller,” his friend mentioned, his voice in a whisper. The young man allowed himself to relax against the cushions, glancing at his friend before wearing a sheepish smile. It was a considerate compliment, to say the least. The man felt his heart flutter slightly in his chest, which he was quick to ignore. Ethan couldn’t start acting all…_ weird _around his friend. Surely Mark would notice sooner or later, although the brunette himself didn’t even know what was going on. That slight churning in his stomach he had recently started experiencing when they were in each other’s presence…although it would go away sure enough, it would take a minute or two to subside. The way his heart skipped a beat whenever Mark complimented him or even_ looked _at him a certain way…the flush feeling that would spread throughout his entire body within a second. The young man hardly knew what it was, but it wasn’t anything he wanted Mark figuring out. Unless it was like…a best friend thing? The man had never felt that way around Sean, but he supposed that maybe they were just friends…not_ best _friends. Ethan had never really had a best friend before; maybe this was the feeling. He smiled to himself. That made enough sense._

_“I mean, I know I say this a lot…” Mark continued, biting his lip and smiling, “but you’re_ so _good with her. I’m serious, like…you’re so good with kids. I know you worked at a daycare center, and I know you get_ paid _to do this, but-”_

_“I don’t do this because I get paid,” Ethan returned quickly, not wanting to allow his friend to think that. Sure, it wasn’t the most horrible thing to believe…but the young man didn’t just watch Charlotte because he was getting paid. He genuinely liked being around her, and he appreciated the way she looked up to him. Sort of like an older brother, maybe? Slightly parental? Either way, he liked it. Ethan found it adorable. “I do it because she’s a good kid,” he explained, shifting slightly on the couch. “I’ve never met a girl like Charlotte, did you know that? Charlotte is_ beyond _unique, Mark. She’s just…I don’t even know. I mean, she’s_ adorable _.”_

_Ethan paused, allowing his eyes to lock with Mark’s. God, that_ feeling _. The blood rushing, heart antagonizing,_ lung crushing _feeling that washed over him. He felt like he was drowning in it, and he didn’t even know what it was. Ethan knew he was supposed to, it wasn’t like the feeling was entirely abnormal. It was something he must have experienced at least once in his life…but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. The young man cleared his throat, allowing his eyes to soften just the same as his voice. “And, I mean…” he continued, his voice trailing off in a whisper, his gaze refusing to part from Mark’s, “…it also helps that her dad is one of my best friends, and one of the greatest people I know…the only person who has_ ever _seemed to genuinely care about my health.” And it was the truth. Everything that Ethan said was completely truthful, and he could only pray that the older man understood this as he listened. The brunette had never been so serious about something in his entire life…that was all he wanted Mark to know…that he meant every bit of what he said._

_“Well, I think you’re pretty amazing too,” Mark whispered in return. Why were they whispering? Ethan himself didn’t even know, but he didn’t question anything as he allowed himself to get lost in the electrifying feeling that was just…_ there _. He couldn’t even describe it. It was as if his body had gone numb…his breathing had slowed, his words coming out light and airy. The young man could only stare into Mark’s soft eyes…as if he was paralyzed. It was intoxicating. Every part of Ethan was either motionless or on fire, and he didn’t even mind. He didn’t even_ care _. He wanted to get lost in that feeling, that was all he could say. So he did. The young man allowed his body to relax…he allowed himself to shift closer to Mark, his heart finally beating steadily. He was no longer anxious…as if this was…_ right _? Ethan didn’t even know what to make of it…what to make of the_ situation _. He hardly had any idea what was going on, but he sat there._

_“I mean, you’re really the only friend I have…” his friend continued with a soft chuckle. “You’re funny…you’re kind…” his voice trailed off again. Mark’s mouth remained slightly opened, as if he was trying to find the right words to say…as if the ability to speak had been taken from him. So, instead, the older man simply closed his mouth, allowing a shy smile to speak for himself. Ethan swallowed thickly, his heart racing again._

_“Yeah?” He whispered. Almost as if he was_ daring _for Mark to respond. The brunette felt his heart in his throat as his friend leaned in just_ ever _so slightly. God, as if he was coaxing him._

_“Yeah,” Mark confirmed. His voice was so…_ breathless. _His friend seemed just as confused as he was. He couldn’t look away from him…they_ couldn’t _look away from each other. Ethan gripped the cushion of the couch roughly before clearing his throat, being swift to pull his attention away. The man didn’t even know what to say for a few seconds. Part of him felt as if he was out of breath. Why did he feel like he was out of breath? Nevertheless, he looked at the coffee table._

_“I_ really _need to get going,” Ethan mentioned, an almost drunken giggle simply rolling off his tongue. Mark leaned back slightly, out of the young man’s view. Ethan glanced back at him again. “I mean, it’s already pretty late and everything,” he explained. “You probably still have to work on your presentation for Friday…right?” The older man stared back at him blankly for a few seconds, almost as if he was speaking a foreign language. After another second, his friend cleared his throat, giving a nod of confirmation. “Text me when you’re finished though,” Ethan giggled. “I wanna see it.” Mark looked up at him, smiling and nodding. He…he looked fine. He looked as if he hadn’t experienced…_ any _of what had just happened, despite the young man’s prior contrary beliefs. Whatever had happened must have only been in Ethan’s head._

_“Sure thing,” Mark mentioned, smiling. Ethan stood there for a few seconds before smiling in return, nodding his head and turning on his heels. The older man murmured something else underneath his breath, but the young man hadn’t been quick enough to catch it, and he surely wasn’t going to go out of his way to ask any questions. Instead, he allowed himself to walk to the door, carefully slipping his feet into his shoes._

_“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ethan confirmed._

_“Tomorrow it is,” Mark chuckled. There was a pause. “After dinner, I’m gonna kick your ass at Monopoly.” The young man smiled shyly to himself, simply staring at the door before glancing over his shoulder again. The older man was wearing that friendly shit-eating grin. “And that’s a promise.”_

_“I look forward to it,” Ethan teased playfully…as if none of it had happened. He smiled, opening the door to the apartment and slipping out…allowing him to release the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Ethan closed the door behind him, simply standing there in the hallway and trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened. That was…friendly, he supposed. After all, they had managed to crack a few jokes afterward…but the part where Mark had been leaning forward…where he himself had shifted closer…he shook the thoughts away. This was the last thing he needed to be on his mind. After all, if he worried too much about it, Mark would worry if he was alright, and that was the last thing_ Mark _needed. So…Ethan simply wouldn’t think about it. Although, he did allow his mind to linger on what could have happened if he hadn’t pulled away…_

∞§—————§∞

Ethan’s eyes flicked open quickly, being met instantly with the popcorn ceilings of his apartment in the dim light. He blinked heavily, allowing the reality of being awake to wash over him before he decided got think about anything. After a few seconds, once realizing that he had only been thinking back to what had happened earlier in the day, he sighed, brushing his hand through his hair. Ethan turned over onto his right side, glancing over at the clock resting on his nightstand, his cheek pressed lightly against his pillow. 2:46. Jesus, that was early. The young man rubbed his eyes, allowing himself to let out a groan of frustration as he rolled onto his back again. Ethan could feel the back of his neck slick, the hair on his arms standing on head…and the man hardly knew why. The brunette tucked in a heavy breath, allowing himself to hold it tightly in his chest for a few seconds, eventually exhaling. Ethan supposed that waking up in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly anything out of the ordinary…but he also knew that waking up in the middle of the night accompanied by a chilled sweat was never a good sign; never a sign that everything was _alright_.

Ethan allowed himself to finally sit up in bed, arching his shoulders back slightly. The man glanced around the darkness of his room, carefully reaching over and turning on the light. Instantly, the room was illuminated. The covers on the man’s bed were slightly askew, almost to suggest he had been restless throughout sleeping. It wasn’t a surprising assumption. Ethan swallowed thickly, his breathing slow. The man knew he should have been thinking about what had happened while he had been sleeping…why he was tossing and turning, if he was going to be able to fall back to sleep, if the room being too hot was the reason behind him sweating…but he wasn’t thinking about those things. The young brunette was…he was thinking about Mark. The older man’s presence lingered on his mind, even past a simple memory he had been thinking about only a few seconds ago…an occurrence that had happened only a few hours ago. Fresh on his mind, obviously something he had been wanting to think about ever since it happened…ever since he had allowed himself to get swept up in a trance just by simply sitting across from his friend. God, Mark was his _friend_. There wasn’t supposed to be a weird feeling between them…the young man was pretty sure that he himself was the only one experiencing it. After all, half the time Mark looked as if nothing was bothering him…as if the fact that they were just _staring_ at each other was completely and utterly normal.

It…surely it wasn’t normal. At least, Ethan didn’t like to think so. It was never a way he had acted around any of his friends throughout his life, that was for sure. On top of that, the man was starting to doubt if feeling that way was even a _best_ friend sort of them. It didn’t seem like friends acted like that around each other to begin with. At least…Ethan himself had never acted as such around Sean, or Tyler, or any of the kids he had befriended back in elementary school. Never that… _wonderful_ feeling of discomfort. It was the stupidest oxymoron Ethan could think of, but it was true. The feeling of his stomach churning, his heart pounding, his eyes straining as he couldn’t _help_ but gaze back at Mark…it was _blissful_. There wasn’t any way for the young man to describe it other than that, as pathetic as it sounded. However, despite knowing that this was new…the man had experienced it before, just enough to know that he shouldn’t feel that way when he was around Mark. It wasn’t something that friends did with each other, he knew that now. God, Ethan should have known the _second_ he locked eyes with him that something was different. The young man hesitantly shifted in his bed, allowing his legs to hang over the side as he gripped at the covers, balling them up in his fists and just letting out a defeated sigh. Ethan looked down at his feet, a hard swallow in his throat to the point where he could _hear it_. 

After a few more seconds, the brunette reluctantly pushed himself off of his bed. The sheets shifted due to the lack of weight, partly being dragged off the side as he pulled away. The man arched his back slightly, rolling his neck before wiping the back of it. Damp. The man wasn’t surprised. Ethan slipped outside of his bedroom, allowing himself to just stand in his apartment, no intention of going anywhere or doing anything in particular. Ethan could hear his heartbeat echoing in his ear, beating steadily despite the circumstances, seemingly tormenting him. It would be near impossible to fall back to sleep once he was up, he knew that well enough, but sleep wasn’t on his mind. God, sleep was the _last_ thing on his mind. The man brushed both his hands through his hand, allowing his fingers to straggle for a few seconds as he tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling, a dull feeling washing over him. An _incompleteness_ , if that was even an emotion someone could experience. Nevertheless, that was the only thing he could feel. Part of him just felt fucking _lost_. Like he didn’t even know what he was doing, and more than just the fact that he was standing hopelessly in his apartment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other instead of returning to bed. And, of course, the fact that part of him was thinking about _Mark_. 

Not just Mark in general, no. He wasn’t thinking about his friend’s promotion, or the fact that he would be headed over in a few hours, no. Ethan was thinking about his smile…thinking about the way his eyes lit up when they crinkled…the way he joked, the way he laughed, the way he _cared_. Ethan didn't know if this was an act of desperation or foolishness…or maybe not either. Whatever it was, though, he couldn’t allow himself to think like that. It didn’t seem right. Over the past few days…it had been the smaller things that Ethan had experienced around his friend. The slight changes in the way he felt, gradually becoming more intense the more he attempted to divert his attention from them…the more he tried to _stop_ them. It was an unbearable cycle of attempting to convince himself to _stop_ feeling that way, only for the pang of emotion to return only a few minutes later. It was horrible; part of him felt _powerless_. And God, part of him didn’t even understand. It was something he was sure would be so _simple_ for other people, something they could just accept and live with, but the feeling was so alien that allowing it to intrude on their friendship wasn’t something he would be so keen to allow. The young man didn’t want to ruin anything. Ethan didn’t want to tarnish the way he could carelessly joke with his friend…the way he could turn to him for assistance, and the way Mark was always so eager to help him…to take _care_ of him. The brunette didn’t want any of that to be swept down the drain if he were to start acting _weird_ around him. Surely that wouldn’t be anything Mark would appreciate.

Ruining something that he genuinely valued…Ethan didn’t know if he would be able to forgive himself if he would the culprit for it. If _he_ would be a potential reason for them to no longer have intentions of talking anymore. Their friendship wasn’t something he would take for granted, and he wasn’t going to toy with it for the sake of…for the sake of whatever the _fuck_ was going on. Ethan’s eyes softened slightly, a tight feeling in his chest as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It was that same unforgivable feeling he experienced whenever he was in the presence of the older man, and now the brunette found himself experiencing it just _thinking_ about him for too long. It was hopeless. The more he wanted it to go away, the more it lingered. It wasn’t a thought that he could just easily escape, of course. The young man sighed to himself, walking over to the window near his living room, the one beside his fire escape. He leaned over carefully, pressing his forehead against the glass and exhaling sadly. Within an instant, the glass had fogged up in front of him, although he could still get a pretty good view of the city. The apartment wasn’t that high from the ground to see much, but he had the ability to gaze down the avenue, looking onward to the series of skyscrapers that seemingly towered behind the other buildings in front of them. Ethan pulled himself away from the window, reluctantly reaching his hand down to pull it up, leaving enough space for him to climb out.

Another frequent occurrence, he supposed. The young man hummed to himself, reluctantly slipping out onto the fire escape, inhaling the crisp air of the night whilst gazing onward. He could hear his heart beating in his ear, the distance sound of a car alarm blazing, but the city nonetheless. Bright cobalt, tangerine, and tuscan sun yellow shades, all of them illuminating down the avenues, a replacement for the stars. Ethan leaned forward, propping his elbows carefully on the railing, placing his chin gently in the palm of his right hand as he stared off longingly…he didn’t even know what he was looking for. _Was_ he even looking for something? Maybe not. Even so, as he stared off into the distance, attempting to clear his mind of everything that had been troubling him throughout the day…all he could think about was Mark…about how confused he had been while sitting on the couch in front of him. His mind had been racing as fast as his heart…Ethan hadn’t known if it was awful or wonderful. A combination of the two? Possibly. 

Ethan shifted again, his forearm resting carefully against the railing as he leaned forward, exhaling contently into the city air. The young brunette allowed his thought to wander, although they stayed in the general vicinity of Mark himself. Little things, of course, but somewhat important nonetheless. Ethan still couldn’t but help think back to how he had felt…yes, the emotion had been almost alien, but part of him could have sworn that he had experienced before. Whether it was supposedly common, he didn’t know; all he knew was that he wanted to figure it out. The young man closed his eyes, sucking in another heavy breath, a soft hum escaping as he attempted to guide his thoughts back to a time when he had experienced something similar. His mind was blank for a few minutes, his thoughts dawdling on moments of little importance. His fingertips drummed gently against the rail of the fire escape, eventually wrapping loosely around it as he opened his eyes. A faint smile drew across his lips when he remembered something he had sworn to himself would forget…something back from when he was in high school, in fact. A fragment in his past that Ethan had once considered so insignificant…now finally serving its purpose.

The young man could remember it, although the bits and pieces were hazy; his junior year of high school, where pieces of his identify were no longer confusing, although they were hidden. The brunette had been closeted all throughout high school, that was something he remembered well enough, but Ethan had always allowed his mind to wander off to boys who caught his interest. Most of them being seniors, of course, the cliche type that seemed as if they were pulled straight from a romantic comedy. The type that would bend over backward to shape up for the girl, or the romantic love interest ‘bad boy’ trope that teenage girls would fawn over as they sat on their couch, romanticizing the idea of getting swept up into an improbable love triangle. These were the type of boys who hardly listened to any teachers. Some of them were burnouts, but not the one that Ethan Nestor had eyes for. He had been almost stereotypical, of course. Captain of the tennis team, a boy who had probably never paid for a single thing in his life…someone who would eventually inherit his father’s wealth, and that was one of the things he could hardly shut up about. Ethan didn’t mind that, though. Senior boys had always been so interesting, Ethan had known that well enough, and so was Mr. _Captain of the Varsity Tennis Team_ …Wyatt Christianson. The biggest prick in all of high school history, one that every student seemingly admired, although hardly any of the teachers respected him.

The young man could remember how absolutely infatuated he had been with Wyatt…and the boy hadn’t even known Ethan existed. It was just that subtle flush feeling the brunette would feel in his cheeks whenever he walked by him or spotted him in the hallway, something he allowed himself to silently indulge in because he knew well enough he had no intentions of coming out to anyone. Ethan certainly wasn’t the most popular kid in school at the time, and he knew that sharing pieces of his identity with others who would only spread it like wildfire wasn’t his idea of the perfect high school experience; as if high school didn’t already suck enough on its own. But that was where Ethan had experienced it…that _emotion_. The stomach churning feeling when he glanced up at Wyatt from across the room, the fluttering feeling in his heart that wouldn’t go away when he thought about him for too long…that hopeless desperation of knowing that the senior would never like him back. It wasn’t a matter of love, just some romanticized idea he had envisioned in his head, something that he had never taken into his own hands only because he was _afraid_ of it. Afraid of facing who he was…who he wanted to be.

Ethan opened his eyes, a lump in his throat as he stared off at the city. The young man had certainly never considered Wyatt a friend…that emotion that ran through his veins whenever he had thought of him was the farthest thing from platonic. His heart skipped a beat in his chest, that sickening feeling returning to his stomach. A rush of hopelessness washed over him as he let out a sigh, the breath seemingly coming choked out. Although the mere feeling that Ethan felt around Mark was never as intense as it had been when he was a hormonal high school boy…it was there. It had disappeared, yes, but it had lingered…it was honestly never something Ethan thought he would feel again. God, the brunette wanted to get rid of the feeling entirely…he never wanted to experience it again, it was hardly worth it. Especially not…especially not with his _friend_. Mark was his _friend_. This wasn’t something he could just toss around whenever he wanted to, Ethan could possibly ruin one of the greatest things that had ever happened to him, and at what cost? Because of some… _absurd_ expression that hadn’t decided to make an appearance since the time he was prepubescent? If his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him…then he didn’t know what it was. All he knew was that it…it wasn’t _normal_ to look at a friend and feel that way. Ethan didn’t want to admit it, to say the least. His heart was in his throat, his eyes softening sadly as he allowed himself to look out at the city. 

Usually, Ethan would only find himself venturing out onto the fire escape when he was feeling hopeless…and, although the young man had found a purpose to his life, he couldn’t help but find himself repeating the cycle. How could he let this happen? How could he allow himself to get so close to someone, and expect it to not go further than just…than just a simple friendship. Sure, he was friends with Sean and Tyler, but the brunette had never been in any similar situation. It almost made him sick to his stomach. All those times their eyes had met…all those times Ethan’s pulse had seemingly gone still, and his cheeks had gone flushed…that time when he shifted _closer_ to Mark…it had been because of a romanticized exaggeration he had allowed himself to create; it was something he couldn’t possibly stand for or accept. No, he wouldn’t accept it, not with an ounce of him. If he ignored it…it would go away.

The young man sighed.

He knew well enough that wasn’t true. Whenever Ethan tried to look away from him…their eyes would meet once again, their gaze intertwining, and the young man would just feel is _pathetic_ how addicting it was. It was like an itch…the less you scratched it, the more it bugged you. And then you would get stuck in the pathetic loop of scratching and scratching and _scratching_. Having a crush was weird like that…it was like an itch you couldn’t get rid of. Ethan sucked in a heavy breath when he dared even think about that word in Mark’s light; a _crush_. He…he didn’t have a crush. Mark was his friend…his _boss_ …Mark was a _father_ for fuck’s sake. He had a kid to worry about, not some hopeless college kid who hardly knew what he was doing in life. The last thing Ethan needed was to get swept up into something that was beyond his control…something that could only hurt them in the end. He allowed his mind to wander. Things could get out of hand…things _always_ seemed to manage to find a way to get out of hand; at least, with him…things never went right. Ethan stared off at the skyline, a steady beating in his heart. He couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t… _push away_ everything that he was feeling, it wouldn’t be fair to himself to just ignore the way he felt…the way he felt around Mark. Through subtle glances and shy smiles, Ethan would never be able to ignore the mess he had somehow managed to create for himself. 

It was the last thing he needed…the last thing he _expected_.

Ethan closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the sounds of the city. He sucked in a deep breath, holding it in his lungs and allowing himself to count to three before he eventually exhaled. The bitter scent of fumes was almost something he could _taste_. The young man opened his eyes once more, and despite having already exhaled, part of his lungs felt free; less…tight. The lump was no longer in his throat, and his stomach had finally settled. The brunette sighed to himself. Accepting something he had originally intended to ignore…seemed to prove to be less of a burden.

∞§—————§∞

Mark rubbed his eye with the back of his hand, paying no attention to anything else in the room…apart from the computer that continued to sit on his lap. God, he was almost finished with revising everything, he could almost taste it. This would be the final stride of completing his PowerPoint slide presentation; after that, the man supposed he could allow himself to relax. Spend more time with his daughter, that was for sure…he wasn’t even able to tuck her in that night. The man said it as if it was some other being’s fault, of course. The only one at fault was himself, and he knew that well enough. Just, after what had happened earlier on the couch, if anything had even happened at all…Mark didn’t want to think about anything else besides working. Allowing his mind to linger on emotions of little importance, things he had pushed himself to forget, would only hurt him in the long run. This wasn’t what he needed right now. What he needed was to work on his presentation…not focus on the direction his thoughts were relentlessly dragging him toward. Because, at the end of the day, the older man liked to think that they didn’t matter. 

His eyes involuntarily glanced over at the right hand corner of the screen, near his battery percentage. For one, the man could see well enough that he was practically running on empty. And, for two, something that had sent a rush of dread flowing through every inch of him…it was 2:58. Mark rapped his eyes, blinking heavily as if there was a blur preventing him from reading the time correctly…but there wasn’t. The man had truly allowed himself to stay up for hours on end, slaving away at something instead of focusing on things of more importance…like his _daughter_. Mark finally allowed himself to close his computer, resting his elbows on his knees with frustration and holding his face in his hands. Why did everything have to be so fucking complicated? He could hardly even understand it anymore. A chance at a promotion, finally finding a friend, his daughter finding someone who she actually liked to take care of her…all for it to be at stake with Joseph and the _foolish_ way Mark would look at Ethan whenever their eyes met. The way his breath would run short and his body would go numb, allowing himself to just…it were hard to explain. It was like he was there, but he wouldn’t let himself move. He would just allow himself to look at Ethan, getting swept up into a feeling he hadn’t felt since he was in college…and it scared him. It was something he had been scared of for most of his life after Kaitlyn had left, something that he would be afraid to committing to. It was… _terrifying_. The way he looked at the young man reminded him of the way how he would look at Kaitlyn across the room in Economics class, her pen tapping wildly on a blank sheet of paper as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Mark could still remember the way his gaze had lingered on her as she had packed her things up, a frustrated flicker in her eye; he knew well enough that she hadn’t understood a single word their professor uttered.

Mark could still remember the new brooding sense of appreciation he had experienced for his girlfriend at the time being…it was the one that he now shared with Ethan. Not as intense, of course, no...he remembered being head over heels for Kaitlyn within the first week of knowing her. no, his with Ethan was gradual…slow. It wasn't something that had come onto him all at once...but now all he could recall was how the feeling was so similar.

It was a feeling that he had attempted to ignore for so long. Ever since what had happened with Kaitlyn…part of Mark had managed to convince himself that he didn’t _need_ anyone else in his life. He didn’t need a girlfriend, or a boyfriend…all he needed was his daughter. That was the only thing he had told himself for the past six years of his life. He didn't know if he had truly believed it, or if he had just brainwashed himself into believing it…but it had seemingly been his motto. After managing to only get his hopes shattered after a series of misfortunate dates, he knew well enough that distancing himself from anything remotely romantic would be the best thing for him. Part of him just…felt like he could never do that again. He hated the thought of having to put someone before his daughter, which was often something he found in the people he occasionally dated. So…he didn't. Mark had stopped dating two years ago, and he had simply continued his life past then. He just… _existed_ without love. It was something he had once considered impossible, but he found it somewhat calming. 

Although it was something he originally feared…the idea of existing without love was something he was accustomed to.

But the way Ethan had looked at him…the way the man found himself leaning in, almost as if he couldn’t control the way his body moved. Could, he could have sworn he had felt Ethan's breath against his face, they had been so close. But the young man had pulled away, and that was the part that had frightened him. Was it all in his head? God, he shouldn't even be doing this. Ethan was…he was _twenty-four_. The man himself was thirty-one, and surely he was in no position to be dating _anyone_ …certainly not someone so much younger. And what would happen…what would happen if he noticed? It would ruin everything. _Everything_. Their friendship, the way the system worked, everything that Mark had worked so hard to obtain would be shattered if he took a pointless chance on something that wouldn’t even matter, It was obvious that the young man didn't like him back...the way he always seemed to pull away whenever their situations considered eye contact. It obviously wasn't anything he was interested in.

Mark pushed a hand through his hair, drawing in a heavy sigh. The young man had seemingly forgotten how it felt like to be so… _enthralled_ with someone. To think of them so highly and to seemingly put them on a pedestal…to be able to admire the little things they did. It was something that Mark hadn’t been able to do in so long, out of fear that no one could possibly feel the same way in return. 

The only person on his mind was Ethan, but he wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow _this_. Allowing it would mean having the chance of kissing their friendship goodbye if the young man noticed his advances. It was just….so _frustrating_. He didn't even know how the fuck it had happened. How he had _allowed_ it to happen? It was enough to make Mark sick to his stomach. God, why was this happening? He wasn't in college anymore, he didn’t have time for stupid college crushes…he had to think about his presentation. He had to think about his career…his _daughter_. Allowing himself to get swept up into all of this was the last thing he needed. Mark groaned with frustration, pushing his computer aside and just staring at the wall. The man sucked in a quivering breath, holding it in his lungs for a few seconds. It had been so subtle…just the small things that Ethan did piling up into why he was so infatuated with him. His smile, the flicker of his eyes…Mark should have turned the other way. How had he not known this would happen? Letting himself get too close was part of the problem. He just…he never thought about it. The man allowed himself to slip out of his blazer, finally, resting it on the edge of the bed, all while feeling completely helpless. He didn't know what he was going to do…

It had started out so simple. Ethan had just been the young man from the daycare, who Charlotte mentioned constantly, who had decided to help him out with babysitting. The two had gone ice-skating that day, and Mark had felt nothing but the natural bliss of a blooming friendship. That was all he had experienced for the following month, helping his new friend battle an eating disorder, all while Ethan continued watching his daughter. It had just been so simple. How had it gotten out of hand? Why had…why had Mark done that? How could he? It was like a game of chicken where he would see how far he could go without…without fucking everything up.

There was only one thing he could do.

Pretend as if nothing happened.

Like he didn’t… _like_ him like that. Even just slightly. As if his body wasn’t sent through tingles whenever he gazed at Ethan. Like his skin wasn't set on _fire_ , to the point where he could have sworn he was blushing head to toe…like he wouldn’t have kissed him if he just leaned in a bit farther. Part of him supposed this was for the best, though. He wouldn’t be able to ruin their friendship…and everything would go away once Charlotte started school in the next nine months. Ethan wouldn't be around as much, and every feeling that the man felt for him would eventually fade from existence. Instead, they would be friends over text...and he supposed that was the only way. Mark couldn’t get caught fawning over him, especially in front of his daughter. What would she think? He didn’t want to have to put that pressure on Ethan. It was all so complicated…the heart wants but the heart wants, but at what stake? How far was he going to push it for some… _silly_ crush. It was absurd. The man scoffed in defiance, allowing himself to pull himself up from his bed. He supposed he would sort through his briefcase for the following day, allowing himself to be prepared. Mark sighed underneath his breath, pulling away from the bed to enter the hallway. However, as soon as he entered, he stopped; he could see the nightlight illuminating from underneath his daughter’s door. The man allowed himself to wear a sympathetic smile…God, he wished he had remembered to say goodnight to her.

Mark sucked in a soft breath, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. He leaned carefully on her bedroom door, opening it and peeking into her bedroom. He smiled gently, his heart warming at the sight of Charlotte sleeping contently in her bed, although the blankets feel at her waist. Mark sighed, smiling as he walked over gently, crouching beside the bed. The man gently pulled the covers up to her shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead. “I promise I won’t forget again…” he whispered. The man allowed himself to linger for a few more seconds before eventually pulling away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, this chapter is good.   
> I'm really tired, lol. Don't worry, I'm alright and 100% okay, but I was just tired today for some reason. I hope you like it? Lol, idk, I feel like it's not good. Aaaaa, I hope it's okay  
> Thank you!!
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Love you,  
> Simply!
> 
> (P.S.)  
> What do you think of Baby of Mine so far? Favorite parts/subplot? Theories? I would love to hear them!


	29. You're Never Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!  
> Took a quick mini break to just chill, but I am back and I am SO READY for all of the upcoming chapters. Like, these are the chapters I’ve been plotting since the beginning.  
> Fun fact:  
> So far the only chapters I’ve had plotted out since day one have been the first chapter, the ice-skating chapter, the chapter where Mark helps Ethan for the first time with his eating disorder…and that’s literally it. A lot of the upcoming chapters have been planned out since day one, but I’ve kinda just been impulsively writing chapters.   
> The original plan was to have this be 100% from Ethan’s perspective, similar to Fifty Feet in the Air…but like, there’s SO MANY PLOTPOINTS that can be touched when they both share the POVs. You get a father-daughter relationship + bonding, the potential promotion plot point, the breakup, all of the stuff that really can’t be seen from just Ethan’s point of view. This is totally something I’m going to do in future fics, because there’s just so much more depth to the characters.
> 
> Also, a very big big thank you for:  
> \- 11k hits  
> \- 600 Kudos  
> \- 50 User Subscriptions  
> \- 90 Fic Subscriptions

Ethan leaned back on his hands, cocking his eyebrow slightly as he watched Charlotte with mere interest. The young girl was sitting across from him on the floor, cross-legged and playing with her hair, her eyes glancing with mere curiosity over the chessboard in front of her. Every few seconds or so, she would allow herself to reach over for a piece, as if she was about to move it, but instead, the young girl would purse her lips as if she had realized the potential move was terrible. It was adorable, the brunette knew that well enough, although he knew it would become hard to stand as the minutes passed. Nevertheless, Ethan waited patiently, drumming his fingers lightly against the living room carpet the two of them sat on. Charlotte reached for another one of her pieces, the pawn this time because she claimed they looked cute, since they were small, holding it in her hand. Ethan had reminded her that once she put down the piece on a different square and took her hand off of it, the move would be complete; of course, that only made her more careful and suspicious of where she placed it. So, the cycle continued. Reaching over for a piece, holding it in her hand, placing it down but still gripped it carefully, all before putting it back on its original square.

“What’s this do again?” Charlotte questioned, glancing up at the young man. Ethan couldn’t help but left out a soft huff of laughter. He had assumed nothing less from a child, of course. After all, he knew that chess was a complicated game, and obviously it wasn’t something she would be able to master on the first try. He would have introduced Monopoly to her, but that game wasn’t as fun when there were only two players. Of course, Ethan could have asked Mark, but the man had insisted on getting dinner ready…something that the young man was dreading, but he wouldn’t allow himself to think about it while he was playing with the young girl. So, there the two of them were, a dreadfully long game of chess ensuing as Ethan plotted out his moves in advance, since he knew well enough the both of them taking their time would get the game nowhere. Not like there was going to be an obvious winner by the time dinner was ready. They would have been lucky if all of Charlotte’s pawns had been moved by then.

“You can move it forward once or twice,” Ethan reminded her gently, pointing over to the unoccupied squares. “You can only move twice on the first time you move it, though. Every other time you move it, it can only be once. When you want to attack another piece, you have to move diagonally.” The man gestured to another square. “Only when you attack, though. Not just out of the ordinary.” Charlotte paused before eventually nodding.

“What about…this one?” She asked, pointing to another pawn. Ethan stifled his laughter, humming.

“They’re the same.”

“Oh,” Charlotte added, giving another nod. “So…can I do this?” She moved the piece diagonally. The young man sucked in a heavy breath, allowing himself to sit up instead of resting on his hands. He shifted, giving a quick shake of his head as he returned the piece to its original position.

“No,” Ethan hummed, letting out his breath. “Only when you’re attacking.”

“But what if I wanna?” She questioned curiously, cocking her head so that her ear brushed gently against her shoulder. Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle. She sure did manage to ask a lot of questions.

“You can’t attack an empty square,” the young brunette explained, clearing his throat. “If there was a piece there, though, then you could attack it. One of my pieces, though. You can’t attack your own pieces.” That was also something the man had to explain to her, surprisingly. “If you can get your pawn to the other side of the board without it being taken out, though, then you can turn it into a queen. Only if your queen is gone, though.” Charlotte’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

“This is hard…” she whispered.

“Want to try playing a different game?” Ethan suggested, giving a small smile. Nevertheless, the young girl have a determined shake of her head, reaching for the pawn again, letting out a soft ‘nu-uh’ with persistence. “Well, I’ll be patient then,” he mentioned, pretending to zip his lips shut. Charlotte giggled softly in return, her eyes scanning over the array of chess pieces in front of her. Reluctantly, she allowed herself to reach for the pawn again. After a few seconds of thought, she finally pushed it forward two spaces, taking her hand off of the piece to signify she was done. The young man gave a sigh of relief on the inside, straightening up now that he would be able to take his turn.

“Your turn,” Charlotte chirped, almost as if he could have forgotten.

“Thank you for reminding me,” he returned nonetheless, smiling a bit. Ethan reached over, without skipping a beat, moving his rook three spaces forward, since he had managed to previously free it after a series of pawn movements. Of course, the man had full intentions of allowing the girl to win, but he wasn’t going to allow himself to look like an idiot. Charlotte looked at the piece he had moved, glancing over to an identical piece, noticing how it was still trapped behind a pawn. She frowned a bit with frustration. “It’s alright,” the young man said quickly, a comforting smile as he pointed over to the pawn. “If you move that forward two for your next turn, you’ll be able to get it out. Then you can use it. Does that make sense?” Charlotte blinked a bit, looking down at the pieces before slowly nodding her head. “Good,” he mentioned.

Charlotte remembered what Ethan had told her, reaching over and sliding her pawn two spaces forward. The young man smiled proudly. “Good job,” he praised. The young girl giggled shyly, a familiar sense of pride on her face as she shifted in place.

“Da…” Charlotte started, pausing and shifting. Ethan looked up from his hands, cocking his eyebrow. The young girl looked embarrassed, fiddling with her fingers. “Eth?”

“What’s wrong?” The young man questioned.

“Nothin,” Charlotte returned quickly, pausing before she pointing down to the bishop. “How…how does this one move again?” Ethan sat there for a few seconds, pausing to see if she needed to know anything else. Surprisingly, however, that was it. After how shy she had been to speak, the young man had assumed that what she was asking would be difficult to answer. Ethan supposed he could be thankful for that, though. The young girl shifted again, slightly uncomfortable. “Sorry…” she whispered softly. The man cocked his eyebrow, letting out a soft huff of laughter and a genuine smile.

“Sorry for what?” Ethan questioned. Charlotte paused, blinking simply, her eyes pooling with confusion, her mouth opening as if she was going to say something…but she didn’t. “You don’t gotta be worried about asking a question,” the man reassured her, giving a quick shake of his head before clearing his throat. He shifted closer to the chess board, reaching over and pointing to the bishop piece. “Is this the one you wanna know about?” He questioned. The girl gave a hesitant nod of her head in return. “This one can only move diagonally, as long as you have free space, but you can move it as much as you want. That means it can’t move left and right or up and down. Only diagonally. That make sense?” Charlotte gave a quick nod of her head, another sheepish smile spreading across her lips. “You don’t gotta worry about asking me questions, honey,” he reminded her, grinning a bit. “I used to ask a lot of questions too.”

“Okay, Eth,” the young girl giggled, grinning happily. Ethan couldn’t help but smile back at her. God, she was simply adorable. It was something that he couldn’t help but notice whenever he looked at her, but it was the truth. Charlotte _radiated_ preciousness. Mark was lucky to have her, that was all the young brunette could say. Just the way she would giggle whenever the young man hardly cracked a joke, or the way she would listen intensively whenever he read a story to her; she would always press up against his side, allowing Ethan to wrap his arm around her as she pointed down eagerly at the illustrations of whatever picture book she had picked out for an afternoon read. Charlotte would often look up at him with curiosity as he read, her eyes flickering happily before she looked down at the page again, her eyes following the words as the young man read them to her. Whenever the two of them went to the park, they always found themselves on the swings because she always _insisted_ that she wouldn’t do anything that he couldn’t do either. If the slide was too small for Ethan, Charlotte wouldn’t go on it. If the monkey-bars were too low, to the point where the young man’s feet were still touching the ground, she wouldn’t even bother. The man would end up chasing her in a clear patch of grass, playing a mild version of tag, and smiling to himself as she just giggled _hysterically_.

Ethan used to always hate children when he was younger. The thought of having children of his own was always something he considered absurd, because he always viewed kids as nothing more than annoying. After all, all they seemed to do was cry, whine, complain, and throw fits. Of course, the young man had seen his fair share of that with Charlotte, the young girl wasn’t perfect…but she was just one of the best kids the man had ever met. Ethan had been so hesitant when Sean had mentioned a job opening up for the daycare he worked at; the young man insisted that he didn’t even like kids, and that he would hardly get past a job interview without someone realizing that themselves. However, the Irish man had somehow managed to persuade him into putting himself together, handing in a resume that hardly had any extensive work in childcare…and sure enough, the next thing he knew he was working with kids. Charlotte hadn’t been there the first day he had shown up, though. It wasn’t that she hadn’t attended the daycare yet, Ethan could recall Sean mentioning something about her not being there…she must have been doing something with her father. Either way, although the first day hadn’t exactly been some hellish _mess_ …it wasn’t perfect. All of the children were loud; they weren’t entirely obnoxious, but they sure didn’t know the difference been an indoor and outdoor voice, shouting and screaming and just running around.

The next day had been different, though. Charlotte had been there when he arrived, sure enough, and the first thing she had asked him was whether or not he would sit down to read a story with her. Of course, this was nothing that the man had experienced the previous day. None of the other kids really went out of their way to talk to him; Ethan had been considered nothing more than their supervisor. Not to the young girl, though. To Charlotte, he was just another potential friend, and that was always a mindset that the young man had appreciated. How seemingly carefree she was around adults. It was darling.

“So, how’s the chess game going?” The young man heard his friend ask from the kitchen. Ethan turned his head slightly over his left shoulder, feeling his chin brush up against his shirt and smiling a bit as Mark leaned against the countertop, cocking an eyebrow. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, crossing his arms loosely across his chest. “Who’s winning?” Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter, redirecting his attention down at the chessboard, pursing his lips in thought. Despite the fact that they had been playing for over ten minutes at that point, hardly any progress had been made. The young man supposed it was a lost cause attempting to teach the six-year-olds the basic of a chess game, considering she had never been introduced to it before, but it had been one of the only games that didn’t take five hours to play in the first place. At least, Ethan had _assumed_ so when he picked it out of the closet. It was looking as if it would be longer than a round of Monopoly, at the rate they were going, as impossible as it might have sounded. So, the young man turned his head over his shoulder again, giving a quick shrug and clearing his throat.

“It’s kinda hard to tell,” Ethan admitted, a faint smile on his lips, one that he could hardly even help. It was near damn impossible not smiling at everything the older man had to say. He shifted slightly so he didn’t have to strain his next to talk to his friend. “We basically just started the game…I think we’re still in the learning process, though.” He glanced back at Charlotte, stifling his laughter as he watched the girl proceed to take her pieces off of the board, silently arranging them in height order on the carpet, her gaze focused as if it was one of the most important tasks. The young man looked back at Mark. “Case in point.”

“Whatcha doin, Char?” Mark questioned. The young brunette’s eyes lingered on him, longer than they should really…but he just couldn’t help himself. The older man had allowed himself to get changed out of his suit when he got home…and Ethan just loved seeing his friend in casual clothing; it suited him. Not to say his business clothes didn’t suit him, of course, the young man always appreciated being able to see him take his blazer off when it got back…God, was that weird? It sounded weird the more he thought about it. Ethan shook the thought away, glancing back at Charlotte to see how she had proudly arranged the assortment of chess pieces, smiling to herself now that they were placed in height order. The young man couldn’t help but chuckle from how simple, yet impossibly absurd, it was. She just smiled up at her father, shrugging her shoulders. “Well…as long as it makes you happy, I guess.” The man chuckled to himself, giving a playful roll of his eyes.

“I guess sometimes you can’t teach young dogs new tricks, either,” Ethan mentioned.

“It runs in the family,” Mark joked. The young man couldn’t help but giggle, looking down at his hands and giving a small nod. “Dinner should be finished soon,” he continued, clearing his throat.

“Maybe it would have been done sooner if you let me help,” Ethan mentioned, glancing back at him. The older man gave a playful roll of his eyes. Practically every day, the young brunette asked whether or not he was allowed to help with dinner. It was always something that Mark would push off, of course, simply saying ‘no’…and that would be the end of it. “Mark, you work _all_ day. The least you can do it let me help you for once. Swallow your pride, Mr. _I Can do it Myself_.” The older man smiled, pursing his lips as if he was thinking before eventually shaking his head again.

“You work all day too,” he mentioned.

“Yeah, well, my job is _fun_ ,” Ethan retorted, gesturing his head to Charlotte. “I’m getting paid to watch a child every day. I get to watch movies, read picture books, play with stuffed animals…I honestly don’t understand why you’re paying me so much.” The older man gave a half-grin. “You, my friend, have to work behind a desk. Do you work in a cubicle?” Mark nodded reluctantly. “Even _worse_ ,” the young man giggled. “You’re basically working in a box every day, doing paperwork and _boring_ stuff. I wouldn’t be able to last one day in that environment. First of all, I don’t think I would be able to sort through financial records to save my life, the print is too small. I don’t like confined spaces, and staring at a computer all day has got to be one of _the most_ boring things in the world. I don’t care how much more I could be getting paid for doing something like that.” He paused, clearing his throat. “So, considering that I get to goof off the entire day wearing jeans and a T-shirt while you slave away behind a desk wearing a stuffy old suit…I think you can at least let me help you set the table.” Ethan gave a smile, a questioning flicker in his eye.

“As your boss, I make the rules,” Mark joked, a shit-eating grin. “And one of my rules is you don’t have to do any of that.” He paused, reaching over to the glass of water he had already set for himself on the table, taking a sip. “And, I can promise you that _if_ I get the promotion…I’ll give you a raise.” Ethan’s eyes widened.

“Absolutely not,” he chuckled. “That’s nepotism.”

“You’re acting as if I have _multiple_ babysitters who I’m ignoring,” Mark scoffed, resting his glass of water down. “Besides, even if it _is_ nepotism…this is a private company. I’m the boss, I make the rules, and unless anyone is going to sue me for paying you a few extra bucks for graciously watching my daughter…I think you’re gonna have to take the highway.” Ethan couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Part of him felt slightly guilty, of course. “Either way, I’m probably not gonna get the promotion anyway.”

The young man frowned, quickly averting his attention to Charlotte to see if she was paying attention. The young girl seemed to be in her own little world as she continued sorting the chess pieces in different arrangements, as if they were dolls she could play with and make characters of. Ethan turned back to Mark. “You don’t mean that,” he mentioned softly, shifting a bit and biting his lip. “You never know how the cards play out. I mean, from the pictures you sent me of the presentation this morning…I think you’ve really got a shot at this. What happened to the confidence you had when you first got told you were going to the meeting?” Mark gave a sheepish shrug. “Just have that confidence at the meeting, and I bet you won’t go unnoticed.”

“I’ve been going unnoticed my entire life,” the older man replied, his tone making it seem like a joke, although Ethan couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for him at that moment. “I doubt this time will be any different.”

“I notice you…” Ethan mentioned, his voice softening the same as his eyes as he looked to his friend. Mark’s goofy grin faded a bit as he gazed back at him, their eyes meeting in a similar way as they had on the ice-skating rink. This time, though…the young man’s breath didn’t quiver or falter. He straightened up slightly, swallowing thickly as his stare was met with Mark’s piercing eyes. “Your daughter notices you…” his voice trailed off lightly as he shrugged his shoulder. The older man opened his mouth to say something, but his daughter quickly interjected.

“Eth, look,” she giggled.

Ethan allowed his gaze to remain on the older man for a few more seconds, noticing how he closed his mouth. The young brunette turned around, smiling a bit when he was met with the sight of the young girl pointing at the pieces, which had been placed back on the chessboard in perfect order. “Well, would you look at that,” Ethan praised. “You did that all by yourself?”

“Uh-huh,” Charlotte confirmed, nodding her head proudly. The young man shot a quick glance over his shoulder, assuming that the older man would have something to say, but Mark had already turned around instead as he proceeded to continue getting dinner ready. Ethan gave a sympathetic smile, although he knew well enough his friend wouldn’t be able to see it, before turning around. The young girl paused, shifting again. “This game is boring,” she mentioned. Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle in return.

“Well, don’t worry,” Ethan returned. “Your dad said dinner’s almost ready. After that, we’re gonna play Monopoly. Have you ever heard of that game?” Charlotte thought about it for a few seconds before shaking her head. “Oh, you’re gonna love it. It’s really fun. It can be a little complicated to learn, but once you get the hang of it it’s super easy. It’s a business game.” The young girl wrinkled her nose in confusion. “I know, it sounds boring, but you buy and trade property to build houses and hotels and to see who can make the most money by the end of the game. Some property is better than others, so I’ll teach you which ones are the best to get. In my opinion, the orange and green ones are the best.” Charlotte nodded slowly, although she obviously had no clue when Ethan was talking about. “Maybe you and I can be on a team? We can play together, and I can help you with making all of the big decisions.”

“Absolutely _not_ ,” Mark joked from the kitchen. The young man smiled to himself, although he didn’t glance over his shoulder. “Charlotte is being on my team. Fischbachs stick together, everyone knows that.” Charlotte giggled a bit, smiling bashfully from her father’s comment. Ethan couldn’t help but smile in return. God, he absolutely adored Mark and Charlotte’s relationship. Just how impossibly close they were, and how much the older man truly cared for his daughter, despite everything that had happened to him. It seemed as if he had never allowed himself to push his anger and frustration out on her, and that was always something that amazed Ethan…how he just never allowed himself to _snap_. Being a single father obviously wasn’t easy, but Mark made it seem like the simplest thing in the world, and that was obviously something that could be admired. “Isn’t that right, Charlotte.”

“Uh-huh,” the young girl chirped.

“That’s my girl,” Mark replied teasingly. Ethan looked to her, watching as she shifted happily, a proud smile on her face. The young man let out a soft huff of laughter. “Eth, are you okay with asparagus?” He continued.

Ethan sat there for a few seconds, not really knowing what to say. The topic of dinner wasn’t really something he wanted to discuss…he didn’t really _want_ to eat around Mark. It was different. The young man hardly knew _why_ …but it just was. The brunette almost felt the need to impress him more…even though he knew well enough that his friend would be beyond proud if he just ate something without being asked, as he had for the past few days. Eating around people, and even if he was just by himself, was difficult enough about worrying how the other person could be possibly eyeing you up and down. Mark always made a habit of never glancing at Ethan while he ate, and that was something that the young man was beyond grateful for…but part of him simply overlooked it. A self-conscious stab in the side that would prohibit him from ever getting back to the way things used to be…to the better days when he was younger and didn’t give two shits about how he felt when he was eating. Back when Ethan didn’t feel gross for eating a meal, or when someone glanced at him while he chewed. Nowadays, there was always that little voice in the back of his mind, something he had attempted to drown out throughout the years, although he never fully could. It would always seem to remind him that things would just be better off if he didn’t eat anything. It was awful, Ethan knew it…he _hated_ the way he thought about these sort of things, but he just couldn’t stop…as terrible as it was, it was hauntingly addicting.

“Whatever works for you,” the man replied weakly, clearing his throat. Mark gave a quick hum of approval before he got back to work. “I’m not really that hungry, though, so if there’s something else you’d rather have…feel free to have that.” His voice cracked awkwardly at the end of the sentence, a blatant lie because goddamnit the man hadn’t eaten since his granola bar at breakfast, but it was the only thing he could muster together. Maybe it would have been better if he just kept his mouth shut.

“Did you eat lunch?” Mark questioned.

Ethan pretended not to hear him, averting the question that he obviously couldn’t bullshit, since he knew well enough Charlotte would pipe up to correct him. After working with children for a little over four months, he was constantly reminded that they weren’t the best at keeping their mouths shut. Anything they heard or noticed…they would repeat. “I say we put away this game so we don’t have to do it after dinner, since I don’t think we can manage to squeeze a round in. How does that sound?” Charlotte pursed her lips before happily nodding her head, allowing herself to start collecting her pieces. The young man sucked in a heavy breath, doing the same and reaching over to the velvet bag which held the chess pieces from before. “Good job,” Ethan praised lightly.

“Thanks,” Charlotte giggled.

The brunette smiled sweetly, his eyes softening as he eventually stood to his feet, allowing himself to rest his hands on his hips and arch his back, listening as his joints popped all the way up. Ethan cringed slightly, his shoulder blades shifting back as he quickly tilted his head to the side. Sitting on the floor for an extended period of time obviously wasn’t the best way he could be sitting, since his back wasn’t leaned against anything, but the young girl didn’t seem to mind it, so there they were. Charlotte stood up beside him, grinning and leaning against him gently. The young man allowed himself to pat her head gently.

“Dinner’s ready,” Mark mentioned. The young brunette glanced over his left shoulder, smiling a bit as his friend gestured his head to the table. Ethan motioned for Charlotte to walk over first, which she happily did, the young man trailing awkwardly behind her, shoving his hands in his pockets. He noticed how his friend’s gaze lingered on him as he walked, as if he was about to say something at any moment…except he didn’t. Mark kept his mouth shut, even when Ethan eventually sat down at the table, looking down at his hands awkwardly. Part of him didn’t even want to be there. Everything would just be so much easier if he could go home. Of course, that didn’t exactly coexist with the agreements they had already established for themselves, which meant that the young brunette would have to stay for dinner…because it would _help_ him. Ethan didn’t know if it would do much helping, anymore, especially considering how the circumstances had changed. God, the man spoke of it as if it was anything more than some stupid romanticized vision coiling through his head. The reality of it was the fact that he was practically making everything up; the way Mark looked at him, how the man had leaned forward…part of him was starting to question if that had even happened. There was no use acting awkward over something that he could forget about if he put an effort into it.

Mark rested Ethan’s glass of water on the table, along with his plate. The young man shifted with discomfort in his chair, not allowing his gaze to meet Mark’s. “Thanks,” he mentioned softly, allowing himself to quickly reach over for his cup of water. His friend eyed him carefully as he sat down, opening his mouth as if he was about to say something, although he quickly silenced himself. The young man kept his glass in close range, sipping at it slowly…as if Mark wouldn’t notice the fact that he wasn’t eating. It was nothing that the older man wouldn’t be able to spot, of course, considering how long they had been around each other. The man was used to Ethan pushing his food around the plate with his fork, stabbing something, and just staring at it, cutting food as if he had intentions of eating it…and the good ol’ trick of just ignoring it whilst sipping away at his water. The young man glanced across the table at Charlotte, who had stabbed a bit of her asparagus, chewing on it happily. He smiled to himself, clearing his throat.

“Do you guys have any plans for Christmas?” Ethan questioned, starting a bit of conversation to take attention away from the fact that nothing on his plate had been touched; the young man hadn’t even given Mark the satisfaction of pushing food around on his plate. The older man blinked simply as he chewed, eyeing the food on Ethan’s plate before he swallowed. The young man took another sip of water.

“Well, I don’t really plan on going anywhere,” Mark admitted, once he had finished, shifting in his chair. Ethan nodded in understanding. “I mean, not like we’d be able to go anywhere. Santa has to find the house, isn’t that right, Char?” Charlotte perked up a bit, smiling and nodding eagerly. The young man gave a watery smile from the comment. He remembered when he was younger, tripping over himself so he could fall asleep early, as if that would make the time move by any faster. Ethan supposed that had got to be one of the greatest things about being a parent, though. The whole ‘Santa’ thing. “Charlotte has started making Christmas cards, so hopefully I get one of those this year. My mom and I usually exchange presents via mail, so I’ll have to figure out something to buy for her.” Ethan perked up slightly, smiling a bit.

“You’ve never mentioned your mom before,” the young man commented.

“Yeah, I don’t really see her that often,” Mark explained, shrugging his shoulders before taking another bite of food. The brunette looked down at his hands, giving a small nod of his head. “It’s not because we’re like…I don’t know, in some silent argument or something,” the older man continued quickly, almost defensively. Ethan glanced at him again. “It isn’t that at all, really. We just don’t see her often…or at all. I haven’t actually seen her in _person_ since before Kaitlyn got pregnant. She didn’t really…you know, she wasn’t really happy with me. I dunno why…I was the same age as her.” Mark chuckled to himself, giving a small shake of his head. “Our lives just got busy and everything…I can’t come to Ohio because I have work, and God knows I can’t take a day off. She’s busy too, and I wouldn’t want her to sleep on a _couch_ when she visits, but I certainly don’t want her to get a hotel…” his voice trailed off as he shrugged his shoulders. “I would just love for Charlotte to be able to meet her grandma, you know? Feel like she would like that.”

Ethan smiled, nodding a bit. “Grandmas are the best,” he mentioned thoughtfully.

Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. “Now ain’t that the truth,” he joked. He took another bite of food; Ethan noticed how the older man allowed his eyes to glance over the young brunette’s untouched plate. “So, what are you doing for Christmas?” He questioned. Ethan was surprised that his friend hadn’t yet questioned for him to eat something…it was so out of the ordinary. Surely he had _noticed_ that the young man was filled with discomfort; at least, Ethan liked to think so. Nevertheless, he shifted awkwardly in his chair, allowing himself to reluctantly shrug his shoulders as he stared off into space for a few seconds. “Got any plans?”

“Not really,” Ethan admitted, shrugging his shoulders again. His voice trailed off as he pursed his lips, now sitting on his hands to stop his knee from bobbing; it didn’t do him any good. “I mean, same with you I guess. Gonna sit at home…maybe watch a few Christmas movies on my computer. I was thinking of getting maybe, like, a fake Christmas tree? I don’t know where I would put it, I don’t really have that much space, but maybe I could get a mini one. Put it on the kitchen table?” The young man smiled weakly, looking down at the table. “I dunno, just something I was thinking about recently. I used to decorate a _real_ Christmas tree with my parents, back in Maine. My dad would chop it down, and we would all be freezing in the cold while we just watched him. We were like, seven, we couldn’t really help.” Ethan smiled to himself. He missed being able to spend Christmas with his family…it was something that never really crossed his mind until the holidays came around…when he _finally_ remembered that he was practically alone. The young man missed being able to watch Christmas movies while wrapped in a blanket near his parents…just the presence of his family with him was all that he wanted. If only he could _swallow his pride_ …not like it would make a difference. Ethan wasn’t really sure if there was anything he could even _attempt_ to do to fix the state he was in with his parents.

“Me and my parents don’t talk much anymore,” Ethan continued, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Not like with you and your mom, though…I don’t think they really wanna _see me_.” He forced a quick laugh, pursing his lips. He reached for a glass of water…always something that stopped him from crying. You couldn’t drink with irregular breath, something that was common with tears…so he could hold off on that and allow himself to recollect himself. Mark gave a sympathetic smile, pausing and looking down at his knuckles. “Me and Sean exchange gifts, though, so I guess I might have to go Christmas shopping as well. Something nice, too; he was the one who recommended me the daycare job.” The young man sucked in a heavy breath, holding it in his lungs as he gave a justified nod, sighing afterward. “And that’s about it.”

“Well, you know, you could always come over for Christmas,” Mark suggested, blinking. The young man glanced at him, almost confused by the author. It was never really something any of his friends had offered before. “You can’t just spend Christmas all by yourself; that’s like, the _biggest_ holiday for being with people. It’s for…I don’t know, being happy. Not sitting in your bedroom and watching _How The Grinch Stole Christmas_.”

“I…I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Ethan stammered quickly in return, giving a quick shake of his head. “Christmas is for…it’s for family. It’s not for _babysitters_.” He swallowed thickly, forcing a smile and reaching for his glass of water. Damnit, almost empty. Nevertheless, he took a sip.

“Well, I was always told that Christmas is for family _and_ friends,” Mark retorted. The young man slipped out of his seat, turning carefully on his feet to the kitchen sink, so he could refill his glass. “I used to have friends over for Christmas when I lived in Ohio. We always managed to have a great time, even if we weren’t related.” There was a long pause as the young brunette returned to his seat, leaning back as he took another sip of water. “After all, you and I are friends, aren’t we?”

Ethan swallowed, resting the glass on the table. “Of course,” he returned.

“Then surely you wouldn’t mind coming over,” his friend explained, smiling to himself. “We would love to have you. Wouldn’t we, Charlotte?” The young girl looked up from her plate. She obviously hadn’t been paying attention. “Well, it’s nice to know that you’re not always eaves-dropping,” Mark joked. He cleared his throat. “You would like to have Ethan over for Christmas, wouldn’t you?”

The young girl’s eyes widened, a smile spread across her face as she nodded eagerly, looking back to Ethan. “Yeah,” she confirmed happily, almost as if the idea had been something that was written in stone. _Well played_ , was all the young man could think. After all, it wasn’t like he would be able to say _no_ to her. Ethan glanced back at Mark, who simply have a shrug of his shoulders, taking a sip of his own water. “Are you?” Charlotte continued, her voice flickering with curiosity as she shifted to sit on her hands, bouncing slightly in her seat. The young man looked back to her, noticing how completely _ecstatic_ she looked…and all for the thought of her babysitter being able to come over for Christmas. It certainly wasn’t a reaction he was used to. The brunette looked back to Mark, his mouth opening and closing since he didn’t know what to say. The older man simply raised his eyebrows, gesturing his head to his daughter.

“Of…of course,” Ethan breathed out, pulling his eyes away from Mark’s to look at Charlotte. The young girl grinned. “I would love to.”

“Well, I’m glad you decided to change your mind about it,” his friend mentioned. Ethan swallowed thickly, not taking his eyes away from his untouched plate, his fingers drumming slowly on the table as he wished for the night to just be over. He loved being in the presence of Mark…but not like this. Not when the older man was _staring_ at him…God, not being able to know what he was thinking was what made the young man’s skin crawl. All the man could do was sit there, waiting for dinner to be over, something he knew well enough he wouldn’t be able to get away with. “Are you finished eating, Charlotte?” The man continued.

The young girl nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Can you do daddy a big favor and go to your room for a little bit?” Mark asked softly, wearing a sweet smile as he spoke to his daughter. Ethan’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, allowing himself to seemingly sink into the chair as he glanced from one of them to the other. “Me and Ethan have to have an adult conversation. We shouldn’t take long. When we’re finished, we can play Monopoly. How does that sound?” Charlotte shifted a bit before she nodded hesitantly, reaching for her plate. “That’s alright, honey. You can just leave it there,” he continued softly. He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss against her cheek. The young girl giggled softly in return, smiling before slipping out of her chair. “That’s my girl,” Mark praised, leaning back in his chair as he watched her toddle off toward her bedroom. Ethan swallowed thickly, a lump in his throat. He already knew well enough where this conversation would be going, and it wasn’t anything that he wanted to witness.

“I think I need to get going,” the young brunette mentioned quickly, his voice coming out in a panic as his voice hitched. He wasn’t ready to have another one of these conversations…not around Mark. He knew well enough that his friend…someone he _cared about_ was disappointed in him. Ethan already knew…and he wasn’t going to be staying a second longer. “It’s guh-getting late. I know I said I would stay to play a game, but maybe we could make a raincheck on that. I just didn’t think…” his voice trailed off as he moved to stand up. Mark moved his hand over quickly, allowing it to rest on top of the young man’s. Ethan stood where he was, half-standing and half-sitting as he looked down at his feet. His heart fluttered in his chest as Mark gave a small, comforting squeeze…his grip gentle and firm at the same time…enough to coax him into staying. The young man felt as if he was going to melt. God, why did the older man do this to him? Ethan _knew_ Mark knew he was uncomfortable…why he wanted him to stay was beyond him. He was a mess…a human _travesty_.

“I would rather you stayed,” Mark breathed out. Ethan glanced at him, watching how his friend gestured his head over to the seat. “Sit down.”

“Mark…” the young man murmured, his voice getting caught in his throat as Mark squeezed his hand again. The brunette did as he was told, awkwardly sitting back down in his seat. The older man allowed his hand to linger a bit longer on Ethan’s, his forefinger and thumb wrapped ever so gently around his wrist. Nevertheless, he pulled his hand away. “Mark, I really think I should get going,” Ethan whispered, although he showed no physical resist.

“And I really think you should stay, because it’s obvious that the two of us aren’t on the same page,” Mark retorted, his voice flickering with a stern undertone that the young man hadn’t seen in him before. Ethan opened this mouth to say something, but his friend was quick to cut him off. “I’m not stupid, Ethan,” he whispered, shaking his head almost in disbelief. “I’m not… _oblivious_ to everything around me. It doesn’t take having eyes in the back of my head to know that you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what again?” Ethan questioned, allowing himself to play dumb…allowing himself to hold on for just a few more seconds, as if what he was doing didn’t already disgust him. He supposed he wouldn’t give Mark the satisfaction, his pride a heavy lump in his throat that he just couldn’t swallow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not eating,” Mark mentioned, gesturing his hand over to his plate. Untouched. The young brunette hadn’t even bothered to pick his fork up and push something around; he had left it all as it was, which was more than enough evidence. Ethan sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes glancing over to the wall. He couldn’t look Mark in the eyes at this state, it wasn’t fair to him. “Do you think this is a game, Ethan?” No answer. Ethan swallowed thickly, that lump still heavy in his throat as his gaze fixed on the wall, a tight feeling in his chest…like he was holding his breath underwater. “Do you just think that I’m doing this for no reason? That I don’t actually want you to get better?”

“Then why didn’t you just ask me?” Ethan shot back.

“Because I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of my daughter,” the older man hissed between his teeth, his voice low. Ethan glanced down at the man’s hand, noticing how it had tightened into a fist. Mark allowed himself to sigh, his hand loosening as he looked at his friend with disbelief. “This isn’t a game, Ethan. We _agreed_ that we were going to get you better, and getting you better includes you _eating_ the food that is on your plate. Not looking at it, not pushing it around, not ignoring it; _eating it_. And, so far, you’ve been doing great. So what the fuck happened?” God, Ethan didn’t know how someone’s voice could be so harsh…yet so calming at the same time. “Because, to me, it looks like you don’t really care.”

“I do care…” Ethan choked out softly, his voice coming out unmotivated.

“Obviously not enough to do something with yourself,” Mark retorted sharply. He sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair and leaning back in his seat. “This is a two-way street, Ethan,” he whispered. The young man could feel his friend’s gaze burning into his temple. “I know you want help…I know you _need_ help, you need it desperately. And I wanna help you. God, Ethan, I’ve been _trying_ to help you. You were doing so well…we were doing so well.” His voice was weak. “But you can’t…you can’t just give up on everything like this. It doesn’t work like that. You have to _try_ to get better. You have to _want_ to get better.” Ethan could feel his eyes watering. He opened his mouth to interject, but Mark cut him off. “If you truly wanted to get better, Ethan, than this day wouldn’t be any different. You would have eaten what was on your plate.” A tear ran down the side of his face. “You…you look _fine_ , Ethan. You don’t need to be doing this.”

“You think I _want this_?” Ethan breathed out, his voice quivering as he looked up from his hands. The older man’s eyes softened at the state of his friend. “You think I want to be… _obsessed_ with what I put in my body? You think I wanna have a voice in the back of my head that calls me disgusting every time I reach for a fucking granola bar?” The young man shuddered from his own tone, sucking in a heavy breath in attempts to calm his nerves. “I can’t get rid of it…” he whispered, his words coming out choked and seemingly meaningless. “It’s…it’s _always_ there. Even when I was eating, it was _always_ there. Nagging me, taunting me, coaxing me to _stop_.” Mark’s eyes flooded with sympathy…with _pity_. The young man wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand. “It’s not because I think I’m overweight, or because I wanna be thinner. That’s…that’s not it. That’s never been it.”

The older man paused, shifting in his chair.

“Whenever I eat…I just _feel_ gross…” Ethan breathed out, shrugging his shoulders. “I can’t even explain it. I just…I feel like there’s always someone watching me, even if I’m alone. Like there’s someone watching over my shoulder, just judging me and thinking that I’m…that I’m _disgusting_.” Another tear.

“But you were doing so well…” Mark whispered. “You…you were eating without being asked. You were eating popcorn just fine, and…and dinner. You ate dinner that one time, I didn’t even have to say a word. I never had to ask you to stop drinking water and focus on your plate, you just _did it_.” His voice was filled with exasperation. “Why…why did you stop?”

“Because…things changed,” Ethan murmured.

“What changed?” Mark questioned. “Nothing changed.”

God, seemingly everything had changed…it had _all_ been flipped upside down. It was all ruined. If the young man knew that had accepting his feelings for Mark would ruin everything he had worked for, the man wasn’t sure if he would have done it in the first place. Ethan didn’t want his friend looking at him while he was eating…God, he wanted to _impress him_ , even though the sane part of him understood that starving himself in front of him wouldn’t be enough to get the task done. But Ethan couldn’t just say that. He couldn’t admit to that.

“I guess I…I changed,” the young man breathed out, his voice caught in his throat.

“Well you don’t have to…” Mark assured him softly. The young man felt his heart flutter again as his friend reached over once more, resting his hand atop his and just giving that same… _sadly_ sympathetic smile. Ethan allowed himself to gaze back this time, their eyes meeting…and his heart rate carefully slowed down. “I still want to help you, Ethan; that…that part hasn’t changed. It won’t ever change, not until you’re better. I don’t care how long this takes, we’re gonna do this together.” He paused, his breath shuddering. “You’re not alone…”

Ethan could feel stability crumbling in his own grasp as he sat there, his lips curling up slightly as his eyes watered. Mark just watched him, squeezing his hand tighter and saying nothing.

“You’re never gonna be alone again…I promise…”

Ethan sucked in a heavy breath, slowly nodding his head and wiping his eyes with the back of his head. “Thu-Thank you…” he whispered, his voice shaky. Mark finally let go of his hand, clearing his throat awkwardly and shifting in his chair.

“I need you to promise me something…” Mark whispered.

Ethan looked at him curiously.

“On Friday, the meeting runs later,” the older man explained, shifting in his chair again. “I’m gonna have leftovers for you to heat up with Charlotte, I probably won’t be home until around eleven. I want you to promise me that you’re going to eat something…” his voice trailed off. Ethan swallowed thickly. He supposed it would be a bit easier. “Can you…can you do that?”

Ethan nodded slowly. “Okay…”

“Thank you…” Mark whispered. He looked down at Ethan’s plate, a hard swallow following. “I’m gonna go check on Charlotte…maybe you can eat something while I’m gone.” He gave a weak smile, looking down at his hands before reluctantly slipping out of his chair. The young man watched as he went, his gaze lingering shyly for a few seconds before he looked back down to his plate. Ethan reached over to his fork hesitantly, allowing himself to stab a piece of food; he pushed it around for a few seconds before taking a bit. Ethan sighed contently. Things would get better…surely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty?  
> Lol, a lil bit  
> I kinda like this chapter
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Love you,  
> Simply
> 
> Question of the day: What did you think of today's chapter?


	30. Stay With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so tired, please enjoy  
> But don't worry, I didn't stay up late writing this. I'm tired because I'm lazy <3
> 
> \-----
> 
> This chapter is a little longer than usual because I'm going to visit family for a week, and I probably won't be able to write. So, I thought I might as well go big or go home. Get ready for a whirlwind of a chapter ladies and gentlemen

Mark sucked in a heavy breath, holding it tightly in his chest. His knee bounced repeatedly as he attempted to calm himself down, leaning back into the chair in the hallway. The man swore for a few seconds that he had forgotten how to breathe. Soothing his nerves certainly wouldn’t be the easiest thing in the world, not like it would make a difference in the first place. Mark knew well enough that even if he _did_ manage to get his heart rate steady, and for his neck to stop getting slick at the back, it would only return as soon as he stepped into the room; the _conference_ room. The room where important meetings were held practically every other day, ones that Mark, and even his boss Eric, could only dream of attending because most of the topics presented had absolutely nothing to do with them. All above their pay grade of course…it was a position that the man wasn’t even sure he would be able to reach in his lifetime. Those who managed to sit in that room were usually the ones that had been there since the beginning of the company, assuming the titles within the first few seconds, without actually having to work on ground level. 

Mark himself had never been inside the conference room. Located on a floor much higher above his pay grade, as was practically everything in the office building, it was never something he could even _accidentally_ stumble across. Nothing on that specific floor had anything to do with him or the division he worked in. Instead, it was dedicated to those who made seemingly eight times as him, working shorter hours with luxuries that Mark could hardly even dream of. Any businessman’s dream, he supposed. The type where they would allow themselves to ride the elevator all the way up, since taking the stairs would be considered more than a workout for them. The type where they were in their own personal office, situation by a window and looking out at the city, something they had managed to claim for themselves during their time working at the company. The type of romanticized fantasy where the only way they could look and dream was _up_. It was something that Mark had been wishing for when he had first joined the company years ago…something he had _insisted_ would happen to him if he just kept chipping away at it and worked harder. However, only now, as he found himself practically where he started, did he realize that most likely none of it would ever come true.

It was something the man couldn’t help but be envious about, of course. As much as Mark liked to believe that he could pull himself together as he sat behind his cubicle desk day after day, there was just a part of him that wanted to _scream_. That part of him could hardly take it anymore, and the man wasn’t even sure if it was the sensible or insensible part of him at that point. He knew he was entitled to his jealousy, but it was never something he wanted to allow get the best of him. Mark had attempted to ignore it for practically all of his years, only allowing himself to express his anger and frustration in the privacy of his own home, sitting on his bed once his daughter had fallen asleep. Now, however, Mark wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to take it. How much longer he could take Eric throwing down a stack of papers on his desk that he was expected to complete by the end of the day, or having to skip lunch breaks just so he could complete everything early, or repeating the _same_ infuriating task as the days only dragged on. In the beginning, Mark had truly believed that he wouldn’t be in that position for long…that everything would be alright. He supposed he had been wrong.

Because, here he sat, in a practically empty hallway, apart from the series of chairs that lined the opposite wall of the conference room. Cedar brown doors fringed the walls, each one holding a private office behind it…each one most likely being identical to the last. Eric had his own office. Not on this floor, sure, but it was his own office nonetheless. A desk that actually had _drawers_ , instead of just being a surface finding leverage on the walls of a cubicle; room for more than just a mere photograph. A bookshelf in the corner, adorned with an assortment of things that Mark knew well enough his boss didn’t even spare a _glance_ during the day. Books that had most likely never been touched, small trinkets that looked like they were worth more than they should be priced, all paired with a small plant that Mark knew was fake. A chair that didn’t look like it could give someone a fractured vertebrae…a floor lamp that didn’t even serve a purpose because the ceiling lights were always on, everything tied together with a man who was the manager of the division section. Mark supposed that the greatest thing about having an office of his own would be the _privacy_ of it all. The ability to stand up and _look_ into someone else’s workspace was never something the man had appreciated or found a way to take advantage of, especially considering he hardly had any friends at the office. Or in _general_.

Mark allowed himself to lean back in his chair, resting his elbows on the arms of it. God, even the hallway _waiting chair_ was more comfortable than the one situated at his desk. Part of him knew that he was supposed to be enjoying this… _experience_. That he was supposed to be counting his blessings, thanking his boss for the fact that he had merely been _invited_ …but he couldn’t. Mark couldn’t allow himself to dwell on the thoughts of finally being allowed inside a conference room, or to meet Eric’s boss and possibly shake his hand, or even to stand inside a room with such _important people_. It was all bullshit. The undertone of the entire meeting read nothing else but favoritism. It wasn’t a difficult concept for the man to grasp, it was obvious that hardly anyone above him advocated for him…and, when they did, there was always a way for everything to get fucked up. He couldn’t win. He could try as hard as he could, present one of his greatest PowerPoint slideshows, never stumble on any of his words…but Mark could never win. It was something very obvious to him now, and it was a thought that he allowed to circle in his brain, despite himself. So no, he couldn’t be happy about the entire situation; at the end of the day, a large portion of Mark knew that he would just be shipped back to his cubicle desk, where another stack of papers would be placed on his desk.

At the end of the day, Mark could only believe that Joseph would be receiving the promotion instead of him. The cards were all in his hand, the odds all in his favor; Eric admired him. Sure, Eric’s boss seemed to appreciate Mark, but appeared to be simply one in a million. It was something the man had been too ashamed to admit until that point, but he supposed he would have to come to terms with it sooner or later. Mark would bring his greatest presentation, and he would work his ass off in front of everyone…but, at the end of the day, everything was out of his hands. He obviously wouldn’t be included in the decision, and he knew well enough it would simply be passed off to someone else. So, life would return to normal…except Joseph would be missing from the cubicle that had _barely_ been occupied. It was enough to send Mark into a fit of rage, of course. He didn’t _want_ to accept it. He didn’t want to accept that someone who had just been newly recruited was sitting in the same hallway as him, a few chairs down because Mark couldn’t stand the thought of sitting next to him. 

God, the man needed this promotion like he needed air to breathe. Mark didn’t know what he would do with himself if he didn’t get it…if the promotion was just thrown over to Joseph. Mark didn’t know what he would do with Charlotte…what he would tell his _daughter_. That everything he had done had been for nothing? That the nights he came home later and later to her each day didn’t even amount to anything…the fact that he had been foolish enough to allow himself to put his work before her was meaningless? It would hardly be fair to her. It was awful enough knowing how out of hand everything had seemingly gotten. How Mark gad allowed it to go that far…for him to be beating himself up over a final slide in the presentation, instead of saying goodnight to Charlotte; his _daughter_. The girl was far too young to comprehend and understand why her father did the things he did…Mark couldn’t even imagine what was going through her mind, even now. The man had allowed his job to practically consume him, assuming every period of time that hadn’t been occupied. All of it just couldn’t be for nothing. Mark had said it once, and he’d say it again…he had absolutely no idea what he would do with himself if everything went to shit. The thought was more than enough to make him sick to his stomach, which wasn’t what he needed. 

What he _needed_ to be doing was focusing on the presentation, and not from a position of fear. The man needed to be reviewing what he was going to say in his heads, remembering which slide came which so he wouldn’t have to constantly glance over. Mark’s briefcase rested beside the chair, his laptop tucked away neatly so he could easily pull up the presentation; he assumed they would have a chord he could hook everything up to. As much as he was doubting absolutely everything, he knew he couldn’t think that way when he was in there. When he was presenting, the only thing he could focus on was the matter at hand. Not his worries, or his doubts, or the fact that he just wanted to sink into himself and disappear. That wouldn’t get him a promotion, and Mark knew that well enough. It was just _so hard to focus_ , especially as the time just continued ticking on and on, no one really being of any assurance. The man had checked the time on his phone once before, and he wouldn’t dare check it again because the only thing he had felt looking down at the numbers was extreme guilt, since Charlotte was still at the apartment. The last time he had checked, it had been 9:13. Of course, some time had passed since that point, and the man knew well enough the time was nearing ten o’clock. 

The only reassurance he had received regarding the overall delay of the meeting was from an assistant to one of the businessmen inside. The woman had come to check on them only twice, each time reminding them that the men inside were in no hurry, but that it didn’t exactly mean they weren’t interested in the meeting. Of course, that was never a question Mark wanted to be answered; the only thing he wanted to know was whether or not they would be starting relatively soon. However, that question was only greeted with the fact that she didn’t know, because she wasn’t in charge. As if the man didn’t already know that. When he asked when they would be starting or what was taking so long, he was met with the question of whether or not he would want a cup of coffee or water. The only thing the man really _could_ do was be patient. Of course, it didn’t help that the assistants seemed to be the most carefree people in the world, occasionally poking into the conference room whenever they were needed, only to be rushed away to retrieve something; mostly unimportant documents or a cup of coffee. Never anything… _substantial_. After all, they were only assistants.

Not to everyone else on ground level, though. Mark remembered the time someone had mentioned how being an assistant to a head businessman or businesswoman was one of the _best_ gigs that anyone could possibly land. Yes, a college education was needed, but it wasn’t as if they were required to be shipped off to _graduate_ school. According to a former co-worker of Mark’s, who ended up quitting after a few weeks once he realized he would be getting nowhere …being an assistant was _the_ job. Accepting phone calls and writing down names, filling out empty schedules, retrieving coffee and documents left and right. When they weren’t needed, they didn’t have to be working. Sure, they could remain at the office, but they could be _paid_ for doing nothing…because, if no one was bothering them, doing nothing became their _job_. Mark knew well enough he shouldn’t be belittling the profession, he was almost positive that his co-worker had merely romanticized it, and that it wasn’t all peaches and cream…but part of him couldn’t help but be jealous. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that they were paid more than him, he could tell by the way they held themselves and the jewelry they wore. Expensive watches, tailored clothes, exorbitant necklaces; it wasn’t that hard to tell. Sure, _overpaid_ wasn’t exactly the word he was looking for…well, maybe it was. Seemingly seated at the right hand of the father, assistants were paid depending on who they represented. The higher up they went, the higher the paycheck; after all, it wasn’t exactly rocket science. Mark could have easily been able to land the role of an assistant when he first entered the company, if they were hiring of course. A resume hardly meant anything, as long as he had a functioning mouth for taking calls and legs that worked to be running errands and doing things the bosses _didn’t_ want to do.

Maybe if all things went to shit, he would find himself being an assistant…no, he didn’t think he could live with himself. Mark was far too proud to be working underneath someone so directly. It was another thing to be working amongst other co-workers, each one of them completing the same task that was expected to be handed in. However, it was _another thing_ to be a personal assistant, someone who would be bending over backward to do exactly as they were expected. Mark didn’t work _for_ Eric. He worked under him. With personal assistants, however, they worked _for_ the person they were assisting. That was never something that the man could get used to. He had seen the way some of them were treated, it wasn’t like he was blind. Surely not a life for him, no matter how much he could be getting paid. Mark saw… _better_ things in himself than being wasted away behind a desk, jotting down names of clients and delivering broken promises that he would transport messages to his boss as soon as possible. He didn’t know if that was narcissistic, or the fact that he had too much pride…maybe a mix of both. However, it was more than enough of a reason to get his mind back in the field of where he worked and what he did. Mark’s knee continued bouncing. The man could only pray that his anxiousness would just wash away as soon as he stepped into the conference room…as if he would be a _confident_ new version of himself. Not likely, of course, but he could only hope.

Mark was itching to check the time. He knew he didn’t _need to_ , and he knew that it would only make him feel guilty, but he could hardly help himself. The man sat on his hands, glancing over his left shoulder. Sure enough, Joseph was sitting a few chairs down, his gaze simply fixed down at his phone, his lips pursed slightly as he scrolled through a social media website, although Mark couldn’t tell which one. The other man breathed simply, obviously not concerned with anything around him…as if he didn’t _care_. As if the meeting didn’t even exist in his mind. Joseph’s gaze was clear from fear or anxiousness, something Mark’s eyes were pooled with, his posture in an obviously comfortable position. The man pursed his lips again, sucking in a heavy breath before just _sighing_ , continuing to look through his phone. Mark could feel a pang of jealousy bubbling in his stomach, an unfamiliar rage washing over him. God, it was so fucking unfair…it was _beyond_ unfair. The other man was simply _sitting there, w_ without a care in the world, looking as if they weren’t giving the meeting a second thought. It couldn’t be anything less than a cocky undertone, Mark knew that well enough. It was just… _stupid_. The fact that Mark had been working the entire past week and a half, slaving away at the thought of working on his presentation, showing up to the conference meeting looking as if he was about to have a heart attack…and Joseph was just sitting there. Almost like he didn’t even want to _be there_ …as if he had just been dragged along with everything, like a child through a mall when their mother went shopping. _Bullshit_ was the only way Mark could describe it.

As much as Mark wanted to have the self-confidence in himself and the meeting…it was hard to do it when he was simply seeing how nonchalantly Joseph composed himself. It was as if the man had simply walked in, without a care in the world, and was just _claiming everything_ for himself. Mark didn’t know how else to put it. It was enough to make his stomach churn with frustration. 

Joseph glanced up from his phone, allowing himself to look over to Mark. The older man shifted in his chair with discomfort, realizing it was slightly awkward that he was already looking at him. However, the other man simply smiled a bit, turning his phone off and slipping it back into his pocket. “Just checking Twitter,” the man explained, a comforting smile to match. Mark stared back at him blankly for a few seconds before nodding his head. “So, are you excited for the meeting?” Joseph continued, his face seemingly expressionless. Sure, there was a smile…but his eyes didn’t quite meet it, blank and void of real kindness. It wasn’t curiosity or interest either. The man shifted. It was obvious to the other that Mark was nervous. “It really is boring waiting,” the man continued, chuckling softly. “I mean, nothing to do, you know?” He paused. “So, how’s your presentation? I did all of mine last night, but you could never really tell the difference.”

Mark sucked in a heavy breath, pursing his lips for a few seconds, his hand tightening slightly around the arm of his chair as Joseph stared back at him simply. The man didn’t say anything for a few seconds, still processing the question and the statement that had occurred afterward. He wanted to scream. He wanted to _sob_. The man wanted to let absolutely every ounce of frustration out, but he bottled it up just the same. It was just…the _way_ Joseph spoke, a slight cockiness lingering with his voice. He reminded Mark of the kids in high school who would brag about not studying for the exam only after they had aced it. It was beyond discouraging. It was more than enough to make the older man want to curl up into himself and just sob…to go home and just forget that anything had ever happened. He felt absolutely _helpless_ when he compared himself to Joseph, someone who hadn’t even been working in the company for that long. And yet…the young man had the _audacity_ to be arrogant. Mark took in another quivering breath, exhaling heavily and his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “I hate you,” he managed, a rush of relief washing over him as soon as he had uttered the words. A slight bit of confidence? Not enough, but maybe. Nevertheless, Joseph straightened up in his chair, his own hand wrapping around the arm of his chair as they stared back at each other.

“I…beg your pardon?” Joseph questioned, his eyes squinting back in return, although his nose wrinkled slightly. Mark took another deep breath.

“I hate you,” the man repeated simply, a shrug of his shoulders following. He allowed himself to think about the statement, which was painfully obvious, for a few more seconds before he continued. “I hate… _everything_ about you. I hate how the way you act is enough to make me want to cry, because the fact that you’re younger than me and managing to vie for the same promotion I’ve worked years for is frustrating. _You’re_ frustrating. You act like you’re so much better than me, just because you were handed this opportunity on a silver platter. That’s… _so_ fucking annoying. Did you know that? Do you _know_ how annoying you are?” Joseph swallowed thickly, saying nothing as he just stared back at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the older man was quick to interrupt. “Is it your fault that you were offered the opportunity? No. But that’s _not_ why I’m upset…I’m upset because you’re being a dick about it. Sure, take what you get, but don’t be a cocky asshole about it.” Mark paused, thinking for a few seconds before he allowed himself to stop talking, shifting back in his seat and giving the other man the opportunity to speak. 

“Eric picked me to attend because he obviously saw something that he _didn’t_ see in you,” Joseph interjected, pursing his lips as if to say that he wasn’t sorry about it. The older man cocked his eyebrow slightly in return from the comment. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I was given an opportunity, Mark, the same as you. I mean, _I_ know that I wouldn’t hold a grudge if the roles had been reversed. I get it, you’ve worked in this company longer. You have a kid. Boohoo. Get over yourself. There are times to pick battles, and there are times to just accept the fact that being here at this company longer doesn’t _make you the best_. You’re not the best, Mark. I mean, isn’t it obvious at this point? Eric might have brought you along, too, but only because his boss was interested in you. _Your_ boss doesn’t share _any_ interest in you. And why should he? Surely it comes to a point where you’re just the old dog in the shelter that nobody wants because you’re past your due date. They’ve seen what you can do, and it’s obvious they don’t have any intention of using your so-called ‘skill set’. Wouldn’t you agree?” Mark sat there, absolutely dumbfounded for a few seconds.

“I already said this isn’t about you taking the opportunity,” the older man retaliated quickly, not allowing himself to be subjected to _that_ argument. “Obviously it’s okay for you to accept that, I…I would have done the same thing. But that’s not what I’m _talking about_. I’m _talking_ about you being a complete asshole for no reason.”

“As if you’ve shown me kindness during this whole ordeal,” Joseph scoffed.

“I have a right to be upset,” the older man returned, drawing in a quick breath. “I need this promotion, more than you could ever even imagine. I’ve needed this promotion my entire life, and I know I sound like a broken record…but I just feel like I’m _constantly_ being overlooked.” The younger man cocked his eyebrow, saying nothing as he shifted in his chair. “And this is the once time where I actually thought that things were going my way. I _actually_ thought that for _once_ …life wasn’t trying to fuck me sideways. I mean, I know you really don’t care…it’s not your place to care. I get it. I _understand_ , but I just wish you would stop being so prissy about all of this. Like you _know_ you deserve it more. You don’t deserve jack shit more than me, let’s just make that one thing clear. If we have to be on the same page with _something_ , let me tell you right now, I want it to be that one thing. We don’t agree with each other, and it’s obvious, but we can agree on that.” Joseph scoffed. “Surprisingly, I’ve worked my entire life to get here. I’ve skipped lunch breaks, I’ve stayed late, I’ve balanced raising a kid and managing to go to work every day at the same time. Don’t tell me what I do and don’t deserve. _I_ will be the one who decides that, thank you very much.” The man paused. “So don’t take it too personally that I’m _upset_ about all of this.”

“Life is unfair, Mark,” the younger man insisted, shrugging his shoulders. “There’s nothing you can do about it. You can either be upset like you are now, or you can just _accept_ the fact that I’m-”

“I guarantee you that you have no _idea_ about life being unfair,” Mark hissed through his teeth, feeling himself about ready to snap. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself to raise his voice enough to the point where the business men and women inside could possibly hear him. “I might not be that much older than you, sure, but I can tell you without a _doubt_ that you have no idea what you’re talking about. You and I are on two different playing fields, and this promotion is the fence that divides them.” Joseph simply rolled his eyes in return. “You’re awfully mature.”

“You’re one to talk,” the younger man replied.

Mark simply chuckled, almost in disbelief, as he shook his head. 

“Well, you know what,” Joseph continued, pursing his lips with a passive-aggressive flicker in his eyes. “All of this is out of our hands, so you can stop being a jealous prick about it. Whatever happens, happens. If they choose me, then they choose me. If they don’t, well…their mistake.” The older man furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “The only people that you have the right to be upset with are the people in the conference room. All I wanted to know was how your presentation was going.”

“Ah, yes, and you just _had_ to add the fact that you had done yours in a day, but that you were sure it was good,” Mark continued. 

“You bet I did,” Joseph returned, glancing away from him and pulling out his phone from his back pocket, seemingly like a parent who would always insist on getting the last word with their children. The older man opened his mouth to say something, but it was obvious that the younger wouldn’t bother paying him any attention. Mark instead muttered underneath his breath, glancing away from his co-worker and feeling more frustrated than he had been _before_ they had started talking. Part of him didn’t even know if he was in the right for trying to start something with him, but he just couldn’t _take it anymore_. The way Joseph acted was just beyond obnoxious, considering everything the older man had gone through for the past week and a half…it was so completely uncalled for. However, the man now saw that even trying to call him out on it obviously wouldn’t do any good, and that Joseph had no intention of seeing _his_ side to the ordeal. It was enough to make Mark wail, that was for sure. Just bubbling frustration inside of him that he couldn’t even let out, because the man who was calling it all had no concern whatsoever for how he felt or why he was upset in the first place. Joseph saw what he wanted to see, it was clear to Mark now, and that was what made him want to cry. He knew he shouldn’t want to, and that he shouldn’t even be humoring the thought, especially since he was in public…but, if he were allowed to be alone, that would be the first thing he would do. It was pathetic, he knew that well enough, but the man couldn’t help it. Mark sucked in a heavy breath, holding it in his chest for a few seconds before he reluctantly fished out his phone. 9:58. Jesus _Christ_. The man had been correct in assuming that time had passed since he had last checked.

Nevertheless, the man unlocked his phone, swiping straight over to the Messages application. He supposed the least he could do was update Ethan on how everything was rolling along. After all, if Mark were him, he would have already assumed that the meeting had started. Of course, the man felt terrible enough knowing that Charlotte would probably have to go to bed without seeing him that night; he should have made more time for her in the morning. It wasn’t like the man had _known_ everything would take this long, though. He had expected everything to get into motion only a few minutes after his shift had ended. However, when Mark had finally arrived at the correct floor and the correct room, he had been advised by a receptionist that everyone inside would invite them in as soon as possible, and that it would be best to wait until then. The man wouldn’t exactly classify himself as impatient, but he surely wasn’t the type to freely wait around for over an hour with nothing to do but look at the wall and shift uncomfortably in his chair. He wasn’t exactly the type to find himself knocking on the door of the conference room, either, where he could be able to ask the question himself. Instead, Mark would do as he was told. He couldn’t imagine walking out on the entire opportunity just for the sake of getting home before midnight, something he was seriously starting to doubt would happen.

> **M:** Still waiting for the meeting to start. Just thought I would update you

Mark sighed to himself, resting his phone face upon his knee before he leaned back slightly in his chair, tilting his head back ever so slightly so he could look to the part of the wall that met the ceiling, just stating at it aimlessly. It wasn’t like there was much else he could do. As much as he liked to believe that everything was alright in the conference room, the man couldn’t help but wonder what they were thinking about him…assuming about him. Surely nothing pleasant, he could only imagine. He hated to spare it a second thought, but maybe Joseph had been right about the whole…old dog in the shelter thing. It wasn’t something anyone would want to admit to, but what if it was true? What if Mark really was just someone that no one wanted holding a higher, more responsible, position in the company? Every time they overlooked him…what if it was just them acknowledging the fact that he was pathetically worthless to anything the company stood for, and they shouldn’t even bother sparing him a second glance because they knew he wasn’t worth it. It was an awful assumption, if anything, but it was one that lingered in the back of the older man’s mind nonetheless. Surely it was just Joseph who thought that, right? An attempt to get him to stop throwing accusations…by just making him worry about things beyond his control? Mark knew that Eric’s boss had shown a bit of interest in him, although the two of them had never met, so surely that meant something. It couldn’t just be some absurd red herring.

What if it was though? There was just that voice picking at the back of Mark’s skull that _wouldn’t_ go away. What if none of the people in there actually wanted anything to do with him? The man swallowed thickly, allowing himself to pull away from the thoughts as his phone dinged again. Mark looked down at his message, feeling a familiar sense of relief and appreciation tingling in his heart at the sight go his friend’s response. It wasn’t anything lengthy, but it was more than enough to get him calm again. He supposed Ethan had that effect on him, as pathetic as it was. Nevertheless, he read the response.

> **E:** Holy shit still???

> **E:** That’s such bullshit

Mark couldn’t help but smile to himself.

> **M:** You said it, not me

There was always that comforting feeling that lingered whenever Mark found himself texting his friend. Just the familiar sense that someone actually cared enough about him to have a conversation with him, especially when they could be doing anything else in the world. The man supposed it was Ethan’s job to watch Charlotte, of course, and that too came with wondering when he would be able to leave and such…but Mark liked to think that his friend texted him because he truly did like it. It was nothing out of the ordinary, though…although it was more than enough for Mark’s face to go flush whenever he looked at them. It was just something he couldn’t help…he couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered or his stomach tied into a knot whenever he received a message from him. It was just the little part of him that adored it. The man knew well enough that it was a stupid thing to feel, especially since the two of them were just friends, but he didn’t have the forbearance that he needed.

> **E:** Any idea when it’ll start?

Mark knew it wasn’t right for him to be acting like this whenever he texted him…his eyes clouded with adoration and desire…God, his blood could run cold from that word. Desire. He spoke of it as if he knew what he wanted from the younger man. He had no…idea what he wanted. What he needed so desperately…he had no clue. All of it was something Mark had humored in his mind, not something he would allow himself to fall the victim of…but he just couldn’t help but imagine the thought of getting close with Ethan. Closer than they already were, to say the least. Being able to sit next to him freely without his heart wanting to thud out of his chest….being able to rest his hand on Ethan’s. The man could feel his cheeks flaring, and he didn’t even know who to thank for the fact that he wasn’t having this conversation with Ethan in person. The feeling of the older man’s lips against the younger’s, a feeling that the man had seemingly been starved of for six years. Mark sucked in a heavy breath.

> **M:** No clue

The man was quick to tuck his phone away, not wanting his mind to linger on the thought any longer. If wasn’t right. Ethan was his friend for crying out loud…his only friend. The man didn’t know what he would do with himself if he managed to lose one of the only people who understood him…all because he had been too selfish to keep his emotions to himself. If Mark pushed them down enough, they would disappear…he just needed to give it time. Time for feelings to die off…time for him to pull his head out of the clouds and focus on the big picture. Ethan surely wouldn’t feel comfortable watching his daughter if he knew his friend had unreciprocated feelings for him. It wasn’t anything that Mark was going to risk for the sake of…for the sake of chasing after a feeling he hadn’t felt for so long. Maybe the reason he hadn’t been tempted with any emotion like that since the fatal day had been because he wasn’t meant to feel it. Maybe the man was never supposed to like someone in that way…maybe the stars had already plucked his destiny out for him, and this was just the way things were supposed to be. Depressing, possibly…but that was life. Joseph had said it himself…life is unfair.

“Mark Fischbach and Joseph Wirth?” Mark heard someone question. The man finally allowed himself to look up from his feet, his heart skipping joyfully in his chest at the sight of a businesswoman standing in the doorway to the conference room, a gentle smile plastered on her face as she gestured for them to follow her in. “We’re terribly sorry about the wait, all of us were just catching up a little bit. You two can come inside, take whatever chair you’d like, just not the one at the head of the table. Mr. Thomsen sits there, I wouldn’t go out of my way to steal it.” The woman smiled to herself. Mark stood up hesitantly, reaching down for his briefcase and holding it loosely in his hand. He noticed Joseph standing up just the same out of the corner of his eye, straightening the ends of his suit as if they had been wrinkled due to sitting down. “I’m Grace Enver, I work in a similar style district at the other office over in Brooklyn. It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Mr. Thomsen and Eric had a lot of wonderful things to say about you.” The woman stepped aside, a similar warm grin. Mark gave a simple nod in return, not really knowing what else to say before he collected his thoughts, finally walking into the conference room.

Mark glanced around, breathing gently as he allowed himself to take everything in. The man had never really been inside a conference room before…nothing like this, at least. No. He had said it once, and he would say it again…this was _beyond_ his pay grade…beyond _Eric’s_ pay grade. None of the projects the man had worked on in the past had warranted him to be allowed inside a conference room. Whenever he was finished with something he was working on, it would always be passed onto someone else, who in turn would be the one presenting it. That was the supposed thanks that the man always received for his work…the ‘encouraging’ thought of knowing that someone more important than him was presenting his slideshow in front of a group of high-class business men and women. This time was different, though. For once, Mark wouldn’t allow himself to fall victim to always being the underdog. Him and Joseph were both in the same playing field now…their lives might have been different, but they both wanted the same thing and they had about the same experience in conferences when it came to the other. Like Joseph had said…they were going to choose who they were going to choose. Until then, the man supposed he could just…‘enjoy the experience’, although Mark was sure he would find no enjoyment out of being beyond nervous the entire time.

An extensive, ovoid table stood in the center of the room; a familiar hazelnut tan shade, with caramel undertones. There were a few outlets that could be featured in the center of the table, something that Mark could only assume was for plugging in devices throughout the meeting. The man didn’t even have any spare outlets in his _cubicle_ , let alone the table. All of the outlets situated on the floor of his workspace were already filled from his computer and from the printer. If he ever wanted to charge his phone, the man would have to venture over to the break room and plug it in beside the water station. Of course, Mark would never allow himself to _blindly_ leave his phone somewhere, so whenever he needed to charge it he would find himself propped up against the wall, sitting on the floor and just hoping it would get back to at _least_ forty percent, just so he could return to his work. The man supposed those who had their own _private_ office would never have to worry about that, though, since rooms always tended to have at least a handful of outlets that were never in use. At least, Eric’s office always seemed to be kindly situated with them. 

A series of alabaster chairs lined the perimeter of the table, each one obviously cushioned and looking like they were painfully expensive. All of them vacant, of course, apart from the one at the head. Not that there was anyone sitting there, but a blazer had been draped neatly on the back, almost as if to claim it. It must have belonged to Mr. Thomsen, Mark could only assume. After all, that had been the one chair the woman had advised him not to sit in. Apart from that though, other seats appeared occupied due to the computers and notepads that had been placed on the table in front of them. A lined series of pens and pencils, someone’s coffee cup, a laptop that had been left open and unoccupied, and a stack of papers, if Mark were to name a few. Apart from that, the room was mostly left uncluttered. A sleek television was framed perfectly center on one of the walls, a few chords draping down, but they were organized behind an umber podium, something that could be found in a classroom. No more than the chords that were needed to connect a laptop to the screen, he assumed. There were a few other people in the room, although none of them were sitting down. Some of them held glasses of water, others a coffee cup, but they appeared to be mingling amongst themselves just fine. Was this what they had been doing the entire time whilst Mark had been waiting outside? Just… _talking_? The unspoken privilege in the room was so thick, Mark swore he could be able to cut it with a knife.

However, despite how irritated that made Mark, he allowed himself to relax…just slightly. The energy in the room appeared to be positive, and the people there looked as if they didn’t even _need_ sleep. Of course, they hadn’t been the ones waiting in a boring hallway for over an hour. Nevertheless, Mark took a few more steps into the room, his eyes scanning over the table for any chairs that didn’t look like they were occupied. After all, he didn’t want to make the mistake of swiping someone’s seat they had already been situated in…it definitely wouldn’t give him any brownie points, that was for sure. Sure enough, though, Mark carefully placed his briefcase onto one of the chairs, sticking to himself like he was a loner at a high school party who didn’t know anyone…simply allowing everyone else to speak as he stuck to himself. The man patted the pockets of his pants lightly, not knowing what else to do as he awkwardly shifted over to where everyone else was talking, assuming that Eric would introduce him and such. Of course, his boss simply glanced at him, giving a simple nod of acknowledgment before he continued talking. _Wonderful_.

“Ah, Joseph,” Eric announced finally, smiling a bit as he noticed the man standing over Mark’s shoulder. The older man had to hold his breath to stop himself from sighing with frustration. As unfair as it was, he remained quiet, stepping aside so his co-worker could be presented into the conversation. “This was the guy I was telling you all about,” the man continued, grinning simply. “I’ve _never_ seen a new recruit have such spirit, it really is a miracle.” Mark held his breath, glancing over at the clock that was situated above the door. 10:09. This was going to be a long conference. Nonetheless, he kept quiet, listening to the string of praise…no one bothered paying him a second glance. The man’s heart sunk slightly in his chest as he stood there, pathetically detached from the conversation. He felt like he was third-wheeling _everyone_ there; as if he was the friend who showed up to the family reunion. “You know, I see _great_ things in you,” Eric ended finally, all while Joseph had begun shaking hands with everyone else. 

“Well, I thank you for introducing one of them,” a man said finally, sucking in a heavy breath, “because I’m afraid I’ve never quite been able to put a face to a name.” Mark glanced over to him, noticing how the man’s eyes were in turn fixed on him. “You must be Mark, then,” the man mentioned finally.

“Er, yes,” Mark said finally, a quick nod following. The gesture had been small, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Just someone being able to know his _name_ was more than what he wanted. “I guess I don’t make that big of an impression,” he continued, clearing his throat before swallowing thickly. The man wasn’t wearing a blazer.

“Well, it’s nice to finally have a face for the name,” the man mentioned, nodding his head simply, quickly swiping his hand through his grey hair. “I’m Eric’s boss, Andrew Thomsen. I’ve heard _wonderful_ things about you from a few of my employees, so I obviously had to have Eric ask you to come to the meeting.” Mark smiled a bit in return, his heart lifting back up in his chest, as if it hadn’t even sunk in the first place. “If you need anything, feel free to ask and I’ll get my assistant. Are you interested in any drinks? Water? Coffee? Whiskey?” He chuckled a bit, a few of the others giving an additional huff of laughter. 

Mark shook his head. “No thank you, I’m fine,” he returned.

Mr. Thomsen nodded simply.

“So, Joseph, did you work on your presentation?” Eric interjected, the topic of the conversation already starting to shift over again. Mark supposed he should have enjoyed it while it lasted. Nevertheless, he stood there for a few more seconds, allowing himself to be subjected to his boss _obviously_ favoring another one of his employees. It wasn’t like it wasn’t expected, or something that couldn’t be permitted, although Mark couldn’t even _begin_ to comprehend why _Joseph_ was his favorite out of everyone else. Was it out of spite so the man simply couldn’t get a chance at a promotion without someone else being thrown into the equation? Probably not…maybe Mark was just overthinking it all. But, either way, the man quickly excused himself from the conversation to walk over to his chair, beside his briefcase. He supposed it would be better distancing himself anyway. After all, the man wasn’t interested in the conversation…and no one seemed to like the idea of _him_ being the topic. So, until the meeting finally started, Mark pulled out his phone and allowed himself to look over the notes he had taken surrounding the ideas. It wasn’t that hard to remember, considering he had already known each point like the back of his hand even _before_ he had started constructing the slideshow…but he would rather be safe than sorry. Maybe it made him look like a dick when he wasn’t interacting with everyone, but it wasn’t like he had been placed in a position where sharing a conversation had been _easy_. After all, it seemed like all the odds were against him. So, Mark kept to himself, his eyes scanning over the text he had written out for himself.

“So, Mark,” the man heard someone start.

Mark quickly looked up from his phone, noticing how Mr. Thomsen was now walking over to him. The younger man was quick to shove his phone into his back pocket, obviously not wanting to mean any disrespect, especially since he wasn’t engaging in conversation. “Sorry, I was just looking over a few of my notes for my slideshow,” Mark explained quickly. “I wasn’t texting anyone or anything.” He shifted, clearing his throat awkwardly. The older man held a mug in his hand, a simple chuckle and nod of his head following as he took a sip of what Mark could only assume was coffee. Why anyone would be partaking in a cup of coffee after the evening was beyond him, but he wouldn’t dare question it. After all, it seemed like the man in question was the only one who showed interest in him…he didn’t want to lose that. Mark would cling onto the fact of the matter for as long as he could, and he would do almost anything to impress him at this point.

“Oh, don’t worry yourself,” Mr. Thomsen laughed, a quick shake of his head. “Do whatever you like, I’m not sure when we’re staring. One of my associates is running a bit late, we’re just holding everything up for him until then. Must be comforting knowing your boss’s bosses are a bunch of scatterbrains, huh?” The older man chuckled, taking another sip of coffee. Mark just gave a simple nod in return. The man seemed so… _casual_ mentioning how one of his own was running late. It obviously had something to do with the power he held, there was no way around it. Whenever someone important was running late, they always only seemed to receive a slap on the wrist once they arrived, everyone shrugging off the thought. Mark, however, knew well enough that if _he_ himself had shown up late for the meeting…well, he would have automatically lost the respect of everyone in the room. That was just the way things worked. It was like how seniors were irrationally indignant with freshmen… _power_. Power was everything, and it was something that was so easily distributed amongst more successful business men and women, to the point where they didn’t even know they obtained it until it was ripped away…something that didn’t happen so commonly. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with looking over a few notes anyway.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mark replied, nodding a bit.

There was a long pause between the two of them.

“So, Mark, how’s the job been treating you?” Mr. Thomsen questioned, taking a sip of coffee. The man didn’t know what to make of the question for a few seconds. Pretty shit, if he really had to answer, although he wasn’t sure that would be the best thing to respond with. After all, he was pretty sure it wouldn’t impress the other man. However, Mark couldn’t help but notice how Mr. Thomsen asked it as if he himself was a new recruit, similar to Joseph. That was far from the case, however.

“I’ve been working here a little over seven years now,” the younger man admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “So obviously it hasn’t been treating me too poorly.” Mr. Thomsen cocked an eyebrow in return, although he said nothing. Obviously disbelief, Mark got that a lot. It wasn’t something that often came up into conversations, but when it did everyone never seemed to believe that he had been working away in the _same_ position for so long. It wasn’t like the man had been given much of a choice in the matter, though. After all, if he had the opportunity to receive a promotion, surely he would have done it by now.

“Well, it’s always comforting to know that there are people so dedicated to the company,” the older man returned, resting his coffee mug down on the table and pursing his lips. “You see, I’ve recently been considering retiring,” he admitted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Not that I don’t love the practice, I’ve been in the industry for over two decades now, and a similar industry before. I love what I do and all, but there’s always more to it, you know?” Mark nodded his head hesitantly. “I have three kids, and, well…I don’t know if I can call them kids anymore. They’re grown and all, one of them just had a baby.”

“Well, congratulations,” Mark interjected.

“Thank you,” Mr. Thomsen replied, humming underneath his breath before sighing. “It is what it is, you know? But I would rather just get to spend with my grandchildren. Work used to be my life for so long…but it seems like it’s not _everything_. Do you get what I’m saying?” Mark nodded a bit, watching as Mr. Thomsen reached over for his cup of coffee, taking another sip. The younger man found himself relaxed from the statement. The man wasn’t looking for advice, or attempting to teach some lesson…he was just comfortable enough sharing what was on his mind. Mark supposed that must have meant _something_. He didn’t interject though, for Mr. Thomsen was quick to continue. “Ever thought about having any kids of your own, Fischbach?”

Mark smiled a bit. “I have a daughter, actually,” he admitted. Mr. Thomsen raised his eyebrows with mere interest. “I mean, working means a lot to me, but God, she’s my world. She’s just wonderful, I really couldn’t imagine my life without her.” The man spoke truthfully as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out his phone so he could show the older man a picture of her. “I get what you’re saying though. I would spend more time with her if I could, but I’m sure you know how it is when it comes to raising a kid and all that. Hard work. You have to be at work, but you also have to be there for them.” Mark drew in a heavy breath, exhaling gently. “I guess I’m just trying my best.”

“Well, good for you,” Mr. Thomsen said genuinely, shifting over carefully to look at Mark’s phone. Sure enough, the man had pulled up a recent photo of his daughter, one he had managed to take while she was caught up drawing something on the coffee table. She wasn’t looking at the camera, but the young girl was still as adorable as ever. Mark smiled down at the photo proudly, a familiar sense of joy flowing through him. He glanced at the older man out of the corner of his eye, noticing how he nodded slowly. “How…how old is she?” He questioned. Mark stifled his laughter. It was obvious that the man had been expecting a baby, or maybe just a younger child at the least. 

“She turned six recently,” Mark answered, turning his phone off before slipping it back into his pocket. “Charlotte,” he continued. “She’s just…she’s wonderful.” The man smiled to himself as he thought about his daughter. Part of him felt guilty for not being there to see her…not being there to say goodnight to her and tuck her in. It was a daunting feeling, really…Mark _wanted_ to be there, but he was busy with work. God, it was an awful sentence to even think about. Choosing work over his daughter. Sure, reading between the lines…but it was just as awful either way. Nevertheless, Mark tried his best not to think about it for too long. Instead, he continued speaking with Mr. Thomsen, trying to take his mind off of everything.

∞§—————§∞

“Alrighty, Charlotte, your turn,” Ethan said finally, sitting up gently once he had completed his own turn. Nothing really eventful had occurred in the timespan of his roll; a pretty standard Monopoly move. He had rolled doubles after getting a pair of twos, landed on one of Charlotte’s properties, and ended up forking over twenty-two dollars since it was Atlantic Avenue. Although the young man himself already had a trio of property, all with identical color, that lined the adjacent side of the board, he didn’t act on it yet. St. James Place, Tennessee Avenue, and New York Avenue remained empty for the time being. After all, he was going easy on Charlotte. It was only her second time playing the game, and it was obvious that she hadn’t learned enough the first time while she was on a team with her father. So, around the board they went, practically passing the same amount of money back and forth to each other, never landing on any of the property that hadn’t already been purchased. It was essentially the most boring game of Monopoly that Ethan had ever played in his life, but he wasn’t going to allow himself to think about that. Besides, Charlotte was there, and the young girl always managed to brighten up everything with childlike banter, rambling on about she wished she has chosen the cat, only insisting that she didn’t want it that bad when the young man mentioned she could change pieces. Ethan had chosen the battleship, as always, and hummed underneath his breath.

Charlotte’s technique for playing the game wasn’t exactly…a good one. The young girl had chosen the dog for her piece, but that was about the only decent decision she had made throughout the game. As she circled the board, the girl would only buy property from the colors that she considered to be pretty. Since she didn’t like the color blue, Boardwalk and Parkplace were out of the picture, and she refused to fork over anything when she had been lucky enough to land on them. True to her word, Ethan supposed, although he couldn’t help but chuckle when she insisted the properties were ‘bad’, since the colors weren’t that pretty. The only colors she liked on the board were yellow and pink, so holding the two weakest property sets was the only thing she had going for her. Railroads? Out of the picture, she didn’t like trains. Utilities? Only the Electric Company one, Charlotte wouldn’t bother with Water Works. Not a single house or hotel had been placed on the board. Ethan’s reasoning was because he wanted to go easy on his opponent…Charlotte’s reasoning was because it made the board look messy. So, around they went, Ethan praying that he could somehow go bankrupt, evidently ending the monotonous round. It had been much more interesting when he had been playing with Mark; the man was surprisingly competitive, Ethan had realized, and the young man couldn’t help but admire him for it. Of course, it was no surprise that the older man insisted the younger was cheating whenever he slipped past one of his armored properties by just a hair, but Ethan didn’t mind. It was adorable seeing his friend in a mock upset state.

Ethan tried his best not to sigh as he watched the younger girl roll the dice. He really wished that Mark could be there. Sure, he knew well enough that he was at his important conference, and that he had been preparing for this for over a _week_ …but the young man still didn’t know when he would be getting home. The only text Ethan had received from him had been nearing two hours ago; they had only spoken briefly, and the conversation had been cut painfully short when Mark didn’t reply to his following text. He hadn’t texted him once he hadn’t responded, though, only hoping that the meeting had finally started; after all, the young man didn’t want to bother him in the middle of it. Ethan could only hope that his friend would finally receive the promotion he deserved…God, there wasn’t a better candidate for it, the brunette knew that well enough. It would just be unfair if it were to be offered to anyone else, especially considering how painfully hard Mark was working to achieve the goal. But, after checking his phone for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the past hour, it was 11:18. The two of them were still on the floor of the apartment, Ethan’s back propped up against the frame of the couch as they went back and forth throughout the game, none of them really mentioning the whole ordeal with her father not being home yet.

The sky outside was dark as ever, of course. Well, apart from the thousands of light that were illuminating the streets, blinking like stars against the skyline. That wasn’t much of an excuse for the young girl to not go to bed though. Ethan had insisted she get tucked in almost an hour ago, since he didn’t want Charlotte to tire herself out. Lord only knew that children were bound to get cranky when they stayed up too long, and that only came with a fit of tears; Ethan had only assumed that the young girl wouldn’t be any different. However, she had persisted, her eyes softening in a pleading sort of way that the man just _couldn't_ say no to. How Mark managed to go to work every day with his daughter's eyes looking like that every time he left was beyond Ethan. So, although reluctantly, the two of them had mutually agreed that Charlotte would go to bed when her father came back, or when Ethan carried her to it if she were to fall asleep on accident. The young man had been rooting for the second option, since he didn’t want her straining herself, but there the both of them were…on the living room floor…nearing midnight. Ethan supposed it wasn’t too bad, since it was a Friday and all that, and since she wouldn’t have to get up earlier for the young man to watch her. Still, Ethan’s phone remained right beside him, the young man silently hoping that would finally ding. That when he checked his messages app, there would be a series of exciting texts from Mark, declaring how he had received the promotion and how he would be coming home soon, and how the meeting had gone _exceptionally_ well. Ethan was practically _praying_ for it. Of course, there was the little voice in the back of his mind that just _knew_ Mark was going to get it. How couldn’t he? He deserved it more than anyone else there…surely someone must have noticed that already.

Ethan allowed his mind to drift off for a few seconds, although it continuously lingered on the thoughts of Mark. It was foolish, sure, but the young man just couldn’t help the way he felt about the entire situation. He wanted the older man to be there next to him. He wanted to shift over and lean into his touch, passing it off as some friendly gesture, waiting for Mark to wrap his arm over the younger’s shoulder. Ethan would do anything to be able to rest his head gently onto the older man’s shoulder during that very moment…God, he was just craving the feeling of admiration from his friend. Why did everything have to be so impossibly complicated? The only thing the man wanted, more than anything in the world at that very moment, was Mark. Ethan didn’t care if they were just fucking _looking_ at each other, saying nothing. It would be more than enough to make him content. It was pathetic, yes…but he wanted that desperately. And, as his mind continued drifting…the young man just wished he could stop himself from thinking; thinking about _him_. Ethan shook the thoughts away, recollecting himself as he realized Charlotte had landed on one of his properties. The young man diverted his attention down to the parakeet green card. “Uh…that’ll be twenty-eight,” he declared.

Charlotte looked down at the assortment of bills in front of her, reaching over for the twenty. She paused, pursing her lips as she looked down at the rest of them, pausing for a few seconds. Ethan watched her gently, not reaching over to help her just yet. After a few seconds, she reached for a five and three ones, stacking them on top of the others before handing them over to Ethan. “Good job,” the young man praised gently, his voice littered with pride as he sorted the bills into the proper stacks laid out in front of him. The young girl smiled shyly, although proudly, as she shifted to sit cross-legged. “So, Charlotte, what do you think of Monopoly?” He questioned.

The young girl thought for a few seconds. “Kinda boring,” she admitted, although she reached over for the dice just the same. Ethan watched her as she rolled them, taking her time to carefully count how many dots there were before she moved along the required spaces, counting as she did. A railroad, unowned. Of course, she didn’t buy it. “ _Long_.” Ethan chuckled softly. Well, he supposed she was right about that. Monopoly could certainly take a long time to determine the winner, but especially when one of the players was young and didn’t really know how to play to win.

“Well, it would be quicker and less boring if you bought houses and hotels,” Ethan explained, gesturing his head to the untouched pieces they had left in the box. It was something that the man had proposed several times throughout the game, but he was always met with the familiar shake of her head and the same explanation. The young man honestly didn’t know why he bothered.

“Makes the board messy,” Charlotte returned.

“Makes the board messy, huh?” The young man chuckled.

“Mhm,” she replied softly, reaching over and pushing the dice to Ethan’s side of the board. He accepted them happily, holding them tightly in his grasp and shaking them, pretending to blow on them for good luck. Charlotte giggled softly as she watched Ethan, smiling to herself and swaying gently as he completed his turn. Nothing interesting. As usual. But, the man supposed there was more to Monopoly than winning…there also appeared to be extensive conversation. “Eth?” The young girl questioned, straightening up a bit as she looked over to the young man. Ethan glanced up from the board in return, cocking his eyebrow to show he had acknowledged the question. “When’s my daddy coming home?” Ethan wore a sympathetic smile, pursing her lips. This was a question that had unsurprisingly been asked several times throughout the entire evening. Whenever the young girl asked a question, it was either which bills she needed to pick to pay him, whether or not the man would pass her the dice…and when her father was coming home. Of course, the young man couldn’t help but feel guilty each time he answered it, especially considering his answer really wasn’t good enough. There was really only a certain amount of times Ethan could respond with ‘I’m not sure’ until he started feeling really bad about it. They had certainly passed their due date, of course, and each time he answered he only felt worse about the fact that Mark wasn’t there playing Monopoly with them. It was out of his hands, of course, it wasn’t like he _needed_ to feel blameworthy…but he did.

“I dunno, honey,” Ethan admitted softly, clearing his throat as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. The young girl’s face dropped a bit, her eyes softening, although she nodded reluctantly in return. It was obviously an answer she had been expecting, although she dreaded it just the same. The young man sighed, reaching over for his phone and swiping over to the messages app. Sure enough, there were no new texts that needed to be read. “The last time he texted me was a little over an hour and a half ago. Your daddy texted me to tell me that the meeting hadn’t started, but that was a while ago. I can assure you that he’s already in his meeting now. I don’t know how far they’re into it, or maybe they’ve already ended. I’m not sure. I would text him again, but I don’t wanna bother him. He could be doing something important. So…I guess we just gotta wait it out, kiddo.” 

Charlotte nodded sadly. She understood…sort of.

“Believe me, I don’t like waiting either,” the young man confessed, shifting slightly before shrugging his shoulders. “But you gotta wait sometimes. Good things come to those who wait, did you know that?” The young girl stared back at him before slowly shaking her head. “Well, that’s okay, cause both of us are gonna wait together. And, when your daddy comes back, you can give him as many hugs as you want, and he’ll tuck you in. How does that sound?”

“Good…” the young girl murmured in return, although her heart really wasn’t in it. All the man could do was smile sympathetically, leaning back on his hands and just looking at her. The young girl looked miserable. Ethan sighed softly. He supposed she was just getting cranky, as most children did when they were up for too long. He knew well enough he would have to end up putting her to bed soon. It wasn’t good for a kid to be staying up this late. Nonetheless, Ethan would allow her to stay up, but only for a few more times back and forth. Then, the young man would suggest tucking her in, but he didn’t want to get to that point. There was no need to add insult to injury at the moment. So, the two of them continued playing for the time being, although Ethan couldn’t help but notice that the girl just seemed… _off_. Charlotte didn’t have the same spirit anymore when she rolled the dice, or when she happily counted while moving her piece forward…she wasn’t doing that anymore. Ethan bit his lip, glancing down at the time on his phone. 11:27. It was really time for her to go to bed, the young man knew that well enough. He could only assume she was just getting tired. He put his phone down, glancing back to her and opening his mouth to speak…but he stopped himself.

Charlotte didn’t look tired. She looked fucking miserable. Her lips were pursed together tightly, her eyes watering a bit as she wiped at them with the back of her sleeve. Ethan looked back at her, his heart sinking in his chest slightly. The young girl sniffled, looking down at her hands. The young man opened his mouth, about to advise her that it would be best if she went to bed, but Charlotte cut him off.

“ _Is_ my daddy coming home?” was all the girl asked, her voice cracking a bit at the end as she wiped her eyes. Ethan felt himself shudder from the words, he hardly knew what he was supposed to say. She wasn’t just cranky…she was _scared_. The man had never seen her look like this before, he almost didn’t know how to react for a few seconds. Charlotte sunk into herself, her gaze not meeting Ethan’s eyes as she stared down at her hands, fiddling with sleeves of her shirt, looking like she was going to just let out _sobs_ any second. The young man sucked in a soft breath, instant regret washing over him. Charlotte had never really been without her father for this long…it obviously wasn’t something she was used to, so of course, she was thinking about the worst scenario: her father following in the footsteps of her mother. Ethan shifted a bit closer.

“C’mere, honey,” he whispered. Charlotte sat where she was for a few seconds before standing up, being mindful of the board, and moving around it so she could go sit with Ethan. The young man shifted as she sat carefully in his lap, pressing her cheek against his chest and curling up into herself. The brunette wrapped his arms around her gently, resting his chin on the top of her head and sucking in a heavy breath. Ethan almost didn’t know what to say. This was obviously never a conversation he had on a daily basis…usually, the young girl brought nothing but positivity throughout the day. “I promise, promise, _promise_ you that your daddy is coming back,” Ethan continued, his voice as soft as before as he just held her. For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything. This wasn’t exactly something he had to do every day…but it was obvious Charlotte was hurting. “Your daddy…” he went on, his voice trailing on. “He isn’t anything like your mommy. Did you know that?”

Charlotte didn’t respond.

“I know your daddy wanted to come home sooner, but he just couldn’t, honey,” Ethan mentioned, gently stroking her hair as he spoke to her, feeling her wipe her eyes on his shirt. “Your daddy had to go to a very important meeting with a lot of important people…he couldn’t just skip it. He had to make his boss happy, and then he had to make his _boss’s_ boss happy. He had to make a lot of people happy with what he worked on, so he couldn’t just skip it. He didn’t think it would take this long either, I know that. Your daddy texted me earlier, and he seemed upset when he said that the meeting hadn’t started yet. He wanted to be here, honey, but he just couldn’t.” The man kissed the top of her head gently, sucking in a heavy breath as he paused, feeling her breathing steady. “You know your daddy works so he can support you, don’t you?”

The young girl gave a weak shrug in return, sniffling a bit.

“Well…know he loves you, right?”

“Uh-huh…” Charlotte whispered, her voice sincere. The brunette smiled a bit, thinking for a few seconds.

“Well…he works because he loves you,” Ethan finally explained. “If your daddy didn’t work, then he wouldn’t be able to take care of you…and he _really_ wants to take care of you. You and your daddy get to live together and stay together because he works. And I know that he had to work a little bit later tonight, but your daddy really wants to get a promotion. That way, he’ll be able to come home earlier during the week if he gets it. And he won’t have to do as much work as he used to, and he’ll be a lot happier. Your daddy was working _really hard_ the past week so he could get it…so he could spend more time with you. Because he loves you a whole lot, Charlotte, and he wants you to be happy. So, I know you’re upset right now…but you gotta remember that he’s doing this because he cares about you, and he always wants to be able to keep you. Does that make sense?” There was a long silence between the two of them before the young girl gave a slow nod of her head. Ethan smiled, exhaling gently as he felt the young girl press against him a bit more. Charlotte tilted her head up, looking at him.

“You’re not gonna leave, right?” She questioned, her voice littered with a hopeful undertone.

Ethan bit his lip, shifting a bit. “Well…not anytime soon,” he explained. “You see, you’re gonna be starting school next September. That means, you have to go somewhere besides the house, and the teachers will be like your babysitters, in a way. While they’re teaching you, they’re watching you. So…the teachers kind of take my job away.” The young girl’s eyes softened, her lip pouting ever so slightly. “That means I won’t be able to come over as much, since I don’t _need_ to come over. I come over every day so I can watch you, and so I can help you and your daddy. But when you start school…I don’t have to do that anymore.”

“But I like you…” the young girl whimpered.

“I like you too, Char,” Ethan replied, a soft chuckle. “But your daddy will be able to save a bit of extra money by not having to pay me…and that’s okay. I’ll still be able to come around sometimes, but I’ll have to get a new job. Cause I have my own apartment, and I can’t have my own apartment if I don’t have a job, but I won’t have a job when you start school. So, I won’t always be able to be over here, even when I _do_. Does that make any sense?” Charlotte shrugged. “I promise I’ll come on the weekends though, all the time. How does that sound?”

A pause.

“Better,” the young girl admitted.

“Good girl,” Ethan praised, kissing the top of her head before gently lifting her off of his lap. She smiled a bit, shifting over, although she still remained relatively close to him. “Do you wanna keep playing the game, or do you wanna pack it up and go to bed?” Charlotte reached over for the dice eagerly, signifying that she wanted to continue playing. And, as late as it was getting, and as much as the man _knew_ that she should be going to bed…he let her. If Charlotte couldn’t have Mark, she could have Monopoly until her dad got back. And that was what the two of them did, continuing to go around the board, passing the dice back and forth to each other. Reluctantly, the young girl eventually allowed a house to be placed on one of her yellow properties; it couldn’t be the pink one, she had insisted, because pink and green didn’t go together. Ethan couldn’t help but smile as he played with her. He knew he sounded like a broken record, but these were the things he was going to miss when it was all over. The young man didn’t like thinking about it, though. After all, it was nine months away. What was the rush? There was hardly any rush to it. He could just continue having fun babysitting her, and constantly being around Mark, and he wouldn’t allow himself to take any second of it for granted. Because, at the end of the day, Ethan knew well enough that if he didn’t live every single one of these days to the fullest…he would look back on them when he was alone at his apartment, _wishing_ he had stayed up just a bit longer. Wishing he had played tag with her for just a few more minutes, or braided her hair when she asked him to, or rewatched that stupid Disney movie every time she wanted. Because…those were days he wouldn’t be able to get back. Not even if he tried. 

Ethan’s heart leaped in his chest at the sound of the apartment door lock turning. He glanced over to Charlotte, a playful smile spread across his face as he straightened up, looking back to the door. God, he was waiting for it. The young brunette was waiting for Mark to burst in, a wide smile on his face and his arms outstretched, only for him to crouch down when Charlotte rushed over. Ethan was waiting for him to explain every second of what had happened at the conference, all while announcing with pure joy and excitement that he had scored the promotion. And then…they would hug. And everything would be perfect. The young man could feel his stomach doing flips inside of him, tightening into a knot as he waited for the door to open. God, he had no idea why _he_ was the one getting anxious, especially considering how Mark had been waiting for over an hour, but he could hardly help himself. Ethan just wanted to _hug him_. He grinned, watching as the door finally opened, but he was only greeted with Mark stumbling into the apartment, dropping his briefcase by the door. His eyes were void of any expression, the man was already pulling his blazer off, and he said nothing more as he tossed it onto the chair. Ethan sat back down where he was sitting, his heart sinking in his chest. Maybe not.

“Daddy!” Charlotte chirped happily, standing to rush over. Mark didn’t react as he walked down the hallway, his shoulders drooping and his posture hunched over. Something had happened…and it didn’t appear to be anything good. 

“Your daddy’s really tired right now, honey,” Ethan explained quickly, gently resting his hand on the young girl’s shoulder for her to sit back down. The young girl looked up at him in confusion, obviously thinking back to when the young man had promised how she could hug her father as much as she wanted. “I know you _really really_ wanna hug your daddy, but I bet he’s exhausted after that meeting. He stayed up really late last night finishing his presentation, and all he wants to do right now is just lay down and get off his feet. Does that make any sense?” Charlotte paused, obviously confused, but she nodded her head. “Good girl,” he continued, clearing his throat to change the subject. “How about we continue playing this game and wrap it up a bit? I mean, it’s pretty obvious that you’re gonna win, but let’s just keep playing for a few more minutes. Maybe your daddy will rest up enough to say goodnight to you. How does that sound?”

“Good,” she replied.

“Good,” Ethan repeated, sucking in a heavy breath. Goddamnit, why did this have to happen? The young man had been almost positive that the promotion had been Mark’s…he would have bet money on it if he had been proposed a wager. After all, he had worked so hard…God, he had stayed up so late, and put so much effort into everything, and had been beyond excited about the opportunity that he could have sworn was his…all to come trudging back home with disappointment in his eyes. It was a beyond heartbreaking sight, to say the least. All Ethan wanted was to see Mark happy…and the man obviously hadn’t been. Nevertheless, the young man forced a smile for Charlotte, not wanting her to know that he too was upset about the whole ordeal. After all, why wouldn’t he be? The man _knew_ how much Mark wanted…no, _needed_ …that promotion. He needed it with every ounce of his soul, and just knowing that it had been passed onto someone else made him furious. There was nothing he could do about it, though…there was nothing _any_ of them could do about it, because it had been out of their hands from the start. However, he tried his best not to think about it around Charlotte. She didn’t need to know what had happened…all she needed to know was that her father was tired.

“I’m tired…” Charlotte mentioned. Ethan stifled his laughter, smiling a bit.

“Well, how about this,” the young brunette prompted, shifting carefully. “You pick out a book you want your daddy to read and get ready for bed. I’ll clean up Monopoly and go get him so he can tuck you in. How does that sound?” The young girl grinned, nodding her head eagerly and practically leaping to her feet with excitement. Ethan smiled proudly, gesturing his head over his shoulder and toward the hallway. “He’ll be ready when you are,” he mentioned. Ethan didn’t need to tell her twice before Charlotte practically took off down the hallway, nearly tripping over herself at the thought of her father reading to her. The young man smiled got himself. Surely the older man would manage to put on a smile for his daughter and read her a bedtime story. The brunette shifted, swiping his hand through his hair before he started to carefully put the game away. He was mindful of not wrinkling or folding the money, making sure to sort the properties back into their color sets, since it was easier to put out and display. Ethan collected the three houses that had been placed on the board throughout the entire game, putting them back in the plastic bag they had been neatly stored in originally. Once he was finished, he packed everything together and closed the top, pulling himself up from the ground and arching his back. Ethan would never get used to that. Nevertheless, he walked over to the closet, storing the board game away with the assortment of other games, as well as miscellaneous objects. The man would have to sort through all of that a later date, maybe clean it up to surprise Mark.

Ethan cleared his throat, turning on his heels and walking down the hallway. He shifted carefully, reaching his hand over to knock on Mark’s door. He hummed underneath his breath. “Mark?” He asked softly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waited for the man to open it from the other side. The young man paused…there was no answer. He knocked again, slightly louder, but not too loud because he didn’t know how thin the walls were. “Mark?” Ethan repeated, not knowing if he was growing impatient or worried. After a few more seconds, the older man had made it obvious that he wasn’t answering. “Look, Mark, I know that you’re in a bad mood,” he started, reaching over for the knob and carefully opening the door, “but your daughter has _really_ been looking forward to you reading a story to her, so could you just…” his voice trailed off slightly as he noticed Mark laying on the bed, his chest rising and falling, his eyes closed. Ethan sighed to himself. The man was sleeping. “Guess not…” he whispered, although he wore a faint smile, allowing himself to linger for a few more seconds before eventually slipping out of the room, closing the door behind him. He slid across the hallway, knocking gently on Charlotte’s door. “May I come in?” He questioned.

“Uh-huh!” The young girl chirped.

Ethan opened the door, smiling a bit as he stepped inside. She shifted, sitting up on the bed in attempts to look over his shoulder for Mark, but it was obvious she didn’t see him. “Yeah, I guess I’m not the person you’re looking for,” he admitted, pursing his lips as he slowly walked over to the edge of the bed. “I checked on your daddy, honey, but he’s sleeping right now.” The young girl frowned. “I know, I know, you were really looking forward to him reading,” he continued quickly, sitting down beside her bed and reaching carefully over to the book. “But, fear not, I’ll do my best to fill his role. Now, I know this is going to be hard. He’s much better at this than I am, but don’t worry. I’ll try my best. How does that sound?” Charlotte shifted on her bed, shrugging her shoulders.

“I want my daddy…” she whispered.

Ethan wore a sympathetic smile. “I know you do, honey,” he replied, a careful nod of his head. “But your daddy is sleeping right now. I would wake him up, but then he would be cranky…you don’t want someone cranky reading to you, right?” Charlotte smiled a little bit, shaking her head. “That’s what I thought,” the brunette continued, smiling to himself as he looked down at the book in his hands. _The Littlest Knight and The Littlest Princess_. “Well…how about it kiddo. Mind if I read to you?” Charlotte pursed her lips before sinking back down into her bed, pulling the covers up and gesturing for him to continue. Ethan smiled to himself, clearing his throat dramatically before opening the book.

It was nothing more than a stereotypical fairytale that had been repeated throughout the decades, but Ethan accepted it just the same. A daring knight with intentions of rescuing the princess from a fire breathing dragon, all while on horseback riding through the countryside. The princess was always a damsel in distress, kept up in some tower that she couldn’t escape because it was either too tall, or the dragon wouldn’t let her out. There really wasn’t much substance or character development to it, but the young man supposed there didn’t need to be. After all, it was nothing more than a children’s book. Ethan felt Charlotte shift in her bed, moving closer to him so she could look at the illustrations. He lifted the book slightly, so she could get a better gaze, and she smiled to herself as she pointed over at a few of them. There never really was a dull moment. Ethan cleared his throat as he continued reading. “The little knight didn’t know how he was going to get across the river,” he continued, glancing over at Charlotte and watching how she was struggling to keep her eyes open. It was quite adorable. “But he had to think of something, and fast. The princess needed his help.” The man allowed himself to remain on the same page for a few more seconds, letting Charlotte point over to the pictures.

“That’s you…” she managed drowsily, pointing at the knight. Ethan cocked his eyebrow, looking at where she pointed and smiling a bit to himself. He didn’t really _look_ anything like the knight in the picture. After all, the knight had blonde hair, although it was a bright shade of yellow for the sake of the illustration, and matching blue eyes. 

“What, the knight?” Ethan questioned. She nodded. “Well, it doesn’t really look anything like me.”

“Nu-uh,” the young girl agreed.

Ethan pursed his lips. “Then how can it be me?” He chuckled. 

Charlotte blinked a bit, pulling the covers up to her shoulders, her cheek pressed against the pillow. “You saved me and my daddy,” she breathed out, her voice coming out a whisper as she closed her eyes, finally allowing herself to nod off to sleep. Ethan stared at her simply for a few seconds, his heart in his throat as he looked back down at the page. The young brunette couldn’t help but smile to himself from the comment. It certainly hadn’t been what he was expecting…he had simply assumed Charlotte would make a remark about how the knight was a boy, and how Ethan was a boy, and how that somehow made the two of them the same person because child explanations didn’t _have_ to make sense. This one did, though. Ethan didn’t know if it was as true as he liked it to be…but he appreciated it nonetheless. He looked back down at the book, continuing to read to her, despite the fact that she had dozed of. It was the least he could do. However, after another page, Ethan could only come to the conclusion that the reason the young girl had evidently gone to sleep was that the book was boring. He shifted, resting the book on the nightstand, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Goodnight, little princess,” he whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and readjusting the covers.

“Well, aren’t you quite the storyteller,” the man heard someone comment. Well, that was more than enough to send Ethan nearly jumping plain out of his skin. He flinched, his heart practically having a seizure as he turned around, only sighing of relief when he realized Mark was leaning against the doorframe, smiling with amusement when he noticed how scared he had made his friend. “Easy there, don’t get yourself killed,” Mark joked, straightening up and crossing his arm s loosely over his chest. The young man huffed in return, a good-natured shake of his head. Absolutely unbelievable.

“You’re a fuckin asshole,” Ethan joked, pulling himself up from his knees to walk over to him. He didn’t mention the promotion thing. It wasn’t worth bringing up, especially after seeing how upset Mark had been when he came trudging through the door. “In my moment of vulnerability, reading to _your_ daughter when you were asleep, you scare the _shit_ out of me.” He punched Mark playfully on the shoulder, smiling a bit as the older man grinned in return. He wasn’t wearing his blazer…he looked amazing. Ethan simply smiled at him, Mark shifting into the hallway so the younger man could lean against the doorframe. “I’m glad you’re back,” he mentioned softly, a half-smile on his face as he gazed at Mark, the older man looking back. “I was starting to get a bit worried…”

Mark chuckled softly, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Why didn’t you text me?” Ethan whispered.

“I _tried_ to text you as soon as I got in the taxi,” the older man insisted, gesturing his head over to the apartment door. “I checked my briefcase for my phone, but I couldn’t find it. _Or_ my laptop. I think my dumbass left it in the conference room.” The young man stifled his laughter, although a small smile curled upon his lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Ethan giggled softly.

“Only _you_ would manage that,” he teased.

“Yeah, well, I don’t even know if it’s gonna _be there_ in the morning,” the man joked, rolling his eyes playfully. “I mean, figures, am I right? I deliver a _good-ass_ presentation, only for me to leave my phone and computer there.” Ethan smiled, shrugging his shoulders a bit in return. There was a long silence, the older man looking as if he was attempting to contain a smile. The younger glanced back at him, cocking his eyebrow. “I got it,” Mark said finally.

Ethan paused. “Got what?” He whispered.

“The promotion,” the older announced. 

For a few seconds, Ethan didn’t even know what to say. He just stood there, almost dumbfounded as he tried to piece together why the older man had been upset at the doorway. Then, it clicked. His phone and computer. The young man couldn’t help but grin as he practically leaped into Mark’s arms, wrapping him in a tight hug. “You dickhead, I thought you didn’t get the promotion when you came in sulking like a widower!” He managed, smiling to himself as Mark hugged him, resting his hands on his upper back and chuckling softly. “You’re such a fucking asshole, I’m never forgiving you. Never. Not _ever_. Never ever never. You can’t just _do that_!” The older man simply laughed in return, resting his chin on the young brunette’s shoulder, saying nothing as they hugged. Ethan paused, allowing himself to fall silent, his arms wrapped carefully against his friend’s back. He sucked in a heavy breath, exhaling gently as he relaxed into his friend’s touch The man might not have been able to see Mark all excited at the door, or have Charlotte rush over…but he would get the hug. And that was more than what the man could ask for. So, without a word, he unwrapped his arms around his back, loosely hooking them around his shoulders instead, pulling himself impossibly closer. Mark’s breath hitched, but Ethan hugged him just the same. Slowly, the older man’s arms traveled down to his lower back, close to his waist. The young man let him, without complaint, although he felt as if he couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. Ethan felt at peace as Mark just held him like that, the two of them not even saying anything as they breathed together. The young man could feel Mark’s heartbeat against his own chest. 

“I…I should go…” Ethan whispered. What was he getting himself into?

“Stay…” Mark breathed out. The young man pulled away, looking at him with confusion. “We have a sofa-bed, remember?” The man continued, his voice painfully friendly as he smiled. “Come on, it’s way too late for you to be walking around at night. I took a _taxi_ back here, that’s how dark it was outside. Plus, I heard it’s gonna rain soon. I don’t want you getting caught in that.” Ethan paused. “Come on, you won’t die if you stay the night. Worried the bed is gonna fold in?” Mark pulled away, and the young man felt empty.

“Well _now_ I am,” he teased. He wanted to hug him again.

Mark smiled. “I’ll get it set up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt cute, might break your heart and put it back together all in one chapter. Idk
> 
> \- Kudos + Comments appreciated -
> 
> Love you,  
> Simply!
> 
> (P.S.)  
> Opinions on this chapter?   
> Okay, okay, I'm not gonna lie...they were supposed to kiss.   
> But I was like, no, that's too much. Too much for one chapter.  
> And now I'm like, yeah not for a little bit.  
> Whoops.  
> THEY WILL SOON I PROMISE  
> JUST NOT SOON SOON  
> P I N I N G


	31. Everything Is Better With You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!!!   
> Still visiting family, but I managed to get this all done in one night where I had free time so….yeah, lol.  
> Before I start I just wanna thank you guys so much for 12k hits, that’s like…a lot. Also, I forgot to mention this last chapter, but Baby of Mine has officially surpassed 200k words. I hope you guys don’t mind the fic being constructed like this (more chapters and a longer slowburn, all that stuff).  
> Overall, I would just like to say that writing Baby of Mine has been a pretty surreal experience. Being recognized in a small community has been really nice, and people telling me that they read this during work, first thing in the morning, before watching an Unus Annus video, that people recommended it to them…it means a lot, lol. I can’t thank you enough for that!
> 
> Anyway, enough of me being effusive. I hope you enjoy today’s chapter!

Ethan sucked in a heavy breath, shifting with discomfort as he found himself waking up…yet again. This had been the eighth time throughout the entire night…or maybe more. The man had honestly lost count after the first few, where he would find himself drifting off, only to be woken upon by nothing in particular. Of course, Ethan didn’t even know what time it was. Although his phone was resting beside him on the mattress, he had no intention of checking it, because he knew that the light wouldn’t exactly aid him in falling back to sleep. Ignorance was bliss, he supposed. He would allow himself to finally get out of bed when the room got brighter, but so far the sun hadn’t even started to rise. The young man stared up at the ceiling, sighing softly before turning onto his side, his hand slipping comfortably underneath the pillow as he pressed his cheek against it. The brunette had tried practically every sleeping position there was, all to no avail. At this point, he was starting to wonder if he should just bite the bullet and check his phone…maybe scroll through social media until everyone in the house decided to get up. After all, he didn’t want to accidentally wake anyone up on a _Saturday_. That was one of the only days where Mark was actually allowed to sleep in, and the same went for him.

The man didn’t even really know _why_ he was having so much trouble staying asleep. The mattress of the sofa-bed was surprisingly comfortable, despite having been folded up for so long. Mark had sheets and a blanket stored in the closet of miscellaneous sorts, and he had allowed Ethan to borrow a pillow from him. The room wasn’t particularly warmer or cooler than the young man’s apartment, and there really wasn’t that much noise coming from outside. The occasional sound of a car honking, despite how late/early it was, but that was about it.Nothing that was really aggravating him…Ethan supposed it was just his own thoughts that were keeping him awake. He sighed with frustration, forcing himself to turn onto his other side, being met with the arm of the couch. The young man didn’t know how much longer he would allow himself to toss and turn before he eventually just sucked it up and got up. Ethan didn’t know what he would _do_ once he was up, though. The man hadn’t brought his computer or his headphones, so it wasn’t like he could subtly watch something on his phone without waking everyone else up. Watching actual television was out of the question, as well. 

Mark was the reason the young man was up. Well, sort of. In a way. It wasn’t like the older man was _physically_ keeping him from going asleep, or as if he was making noise or anything…the brunette just couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was stupid, he knew that well enough, and he _also_ knew that he shouldn’t have allowed his mind to wander in the first place. Because, once it started, it was hard to stop his imagination from meandering. Ethan just couldn’t stop remembering the way he had hugged Mark the previous night…he couldn’t ignore the feeling inside of him that just wanted to do it again. It was trivial, yes, but he could hardly help himself. The feeling of the older man’s hands on his lower back was more than the brunette could have ever asked for, even if it _was_ foolish. Ethan didn’t even know what he had been thinking when he had moved closer…but obviously it was reciprocated to _some_ extent. After all, Mark hadn’t pulled away. He couldn’t just assume that, though…that would be getting ahead of himself. Ethan _knew_ that the older man didn’t see him in that way, it was obviously unreciprocated. Sure, there were a few glances, and they were comfortable around each other…but the younger man didn’t know if he was mixing up a friendship as something more than platonic. After all…the man had never really _been_ in a relationship before. Ethan didn’t know the first thing about it…maybe everything he was experiencing was just him being confused and _wanting_ something more…but to wanting to go get it for himself.

Of course, as much as he wanted to convince himself that everything he had romanticized inside of his head was just some elaborate friendship…that wasn’t the truth. Ethan _knew_ the truth…he had feelings for his best friend, there was no other way around it. The brunette supposed _that_ was the thing preventing him from sleeping. His thoughts were just running wild through his mind, practically inescapable, and he just had to lay there while staring up the ceiling…knowing there was _nothing_ he could do about it. After all, what could he do? There was no way in hell Ethan was taking _action_ on any of it, that would be imprudent. That was the only thing that made him all the more upset, of course…knowing that he was just going to step to the side until all of this went away. _If_ it even went away. He liked to think it would though…he liked to think that it didn’t mean as much as he thought it did. One second, everything would be fine. The two of them would be laughing about something stupid, just rambling on and enjoying a few jokes…and the next second, everything sort of _stopped_. It all got super quiet, and Ethan would just be looking at Mark, the older man looking back at him. All at once, the young brunette would manage to feel like he was in a different world…a world where only the two of them existed, and everything else was just a silent void. Ethan absolutely adored those moments, but part of him feared they would start to make his friend uncomfortable. He couldn’t be doing it all the time, especially not around Charlotte and all that.

Ethan reluctantly sat up in bed, a huff of frustration escaping his lips as he readjusted the covers for what seemed to be the thousandth time throughout the night, as if it would even make a difference anymore. He rolled his neck slightly, his shoulder blades arching back before he stared into the dim room of the apartment, his eyes squinting so that he could make out the details of everything. The coffee table had been shifted, obviously, so there was room for the sofa-bed to fold out. Apart from that, everything remained the same. The brunette reached beside him, grabbing blindly along the side of the mattress before finding his shirt, which was draped just slightly over the edge. He obviously hadn’t expected staying over, so he hadn’t brought pajamas. Ethan pulled his shirt on, shifting on the bed again before finding his phone, on the right side of him this time. He reached over, holding it for a few seconds before turning it face up, the device automatically turning on and shining into the room in return. The young man let out a grunt, quickly turning the brightness down, his eyes strained as he looked at the time. 6:36. It was later than the man had expected. Ethan had assumed it was only two or three in the morning, but he supposed that it wasn’t _too_ dark outside for that to be the case. It was winter though, which always meant for a dark sky. A bright city nonetheless, though.

The young man shifted to his side, his legs draping over the edge of the sofa-bed before his feet hit the floor within a few seconds. After all, the mattress wasn’t that far up from the floor. The sheets were dragged with him, just slightly, but he bunched them up a bit before practically tossing them back. Although, Ethan reached for a smaller blanket, shrouding his shoulders with it and allowing himself to let out a content sigh. The man had never really stayed over at someone’s house before, not even when he was younger. After all, the boy had never been invited to… _sleepovers_. Sean had stayed over at his apartment, though, when he was struggling to pay his rent. Ethan had eventually bailed him out, of course, a debt that his friend was still working on repaying. It was nice though…having someone who was comfortable enough with the thought of the other staying over, even if it was in an entirely separate room. Especially since in the beginning, Mark had mentioned how he wasn’t comfortable enough with the young man to have him staying over. Ethan hadn’t second-guessed that, of course, and it was never something that made him feel offended. He himself would have felt weirded out if someone who was practically a _stranger_ slept on his couch. It was different now, though. Ethan and Mark were…friends. The man sucked in a soft breath, exhaling heavily as he pulled himself up from the couch, his eyes starting to scan the floor in front of him for his pants.

Ethan found them eventually, nearly tripping on them. God, what a way to wake someone up. A scream. He extended his hand, picking them up before tugging them on, humming softly underneath his breath. Well, he was up he supposed. And, once he was up, it would be practically impossible to get him back to bed. Part of him wondered if he should just leave. Well, not without straightening up the sofa-bed and everything, Ethan would hate to leave a mess…but part of him just felt uncomfortable being the only one awake in an apartment that wasn’t even his. It was like being at a funeral for someone you didn’t even know…awkward. So, a large part of him just wanted to rip the sheets of the bed, along with the covers, and return them to the closet. He could fold up the sofa-bed, resting the pillow on the cushions with the decorative ones…and then he could leave without saying a word. Ethan didn’t want to intrude on their weekend, after all. He almost felt out of place. Maybe he could text Mark? Just give him a simple long text explaining he had left, as well as thanking him for everything. That way, when the older man finally woke up, he would see the text and wouldn’t be confused when Ethan had left without saying anything. When he said it like that, it sounded rude…the young man shrugged the thought away, holding his phone close to him. Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he typed slowly, still squinting despite how far down he had turned the brightness of his phone. So dark, he could almost see his _reflection_. God, his hair was a mess.

> **E:** hey, had to leave early, didn’t wanna mess with your weekend plans. just thought I should tell you, since I’m not here. left your pillow on the couch, case you’re wondering. thanks for letting me stay the night, would have been super dark. probably would have ran into a trash can or something on the sidewalk, lol. see you on monday

Ethan’s thumb hovered over the cobalt blue arrow, the man biting his lip as he thought about sending it. It wasn’t rude…right? To just leave? After all, he would only be intruding if he stayed any longer…Mark had only let him stay because it was getting so dark out. Now, it was morning, and although it wasn’t exactly any brighter than it had been the previous night…he didn’t want to overstay his visit. Besides, he was sure the older man would be beyond relief waking up to see that the younger was gone…right? Ethan sucked in a heavy breath. He supposed that if he had to stop and think about it, maybe it wasn’t the best idea. The young brunette reluctantly shifted his thumb over to the delete button, holding it down and watching as the characters were slowly deleted, eventually turning into whole words as he held it down longer. He slipped his phone into his back pocket once the message bar was empty, although he now wondered what he was supposed to do with himself until Mark got up. It wasn’t like Ethan was helpless, or anything, he just didn’t know what his boundaries were. Well, except for the fact that he couldn’t watch TV. That was obvious. He didn’t want to turn on too many lights, either, in fear that it would wake up his friend or Charlotte. Instead, Ethan found himself walking over to one of the windows, allowing himself to stare out at the city. The blanket dragged behind him, which he now loosely held in place. The young brunette gave a content sigh, one that nearly fogged up the window, as he looked out at the view of skyscrapers in the distance. They weren’t too high off the ground, so it wasn’t like he could see for miles…but he would take in what he got.'

It would never get old, Ethan realized. He had assumed it would…but it never did. Sure, he had become _accustomed_ to looking out the window and seeing such a fabulous light-show of illuminated windows…he had gotten used to the scents, and the sounds, and the way his eyes lit up when he looked at everything; he would never grow bored of it, though. The man’s eyes still fixed with such appreciation for the city, a way that reminded him why he had even bothered taking a chance on it in the first place. For _this_. Just the experience of looking up at skyscrapers or marveling at them from the view of an apartment window. It was more than he could have ever asked for, especially considering he had assumed he would be living on a street in the matter of a few weeks once he had been kicked out of college. He wasn’t though…and the man couldn’t be happier. Even if Ethan’s life wasn’t one hundred percent perfect…it was what it was, and he wasn’t going to change it for anyone’s approval but his own. Being able to wake up in an apartment of his own, although it was small and awfully cheap…it was enough. Being able to afford food was enough, and being able to babysit one of the greatest kids in the world was enough, and being friends with one of the most understanding persons in the world was _enough_. More than enough. It was _everything_. More than the man could have ever expected when he came to the city, especially since making friends was never anything he had been good at.

To be honest, part of Ethan had thought his life was going to be completely over once he had gotten kicked out, especially since he had only been given the weekend to get everything together and leave. It had been awfully stressful trying to find a place to say on such short notice. Nearly impossible. He supposed that was why the one he had selected had been dirt cheap, with an appearance that suggested how he had gotten what he had paid for…but he made it work. It wasn’t the apartment he had originally expected for himself, but the young man had made do with what he had been given. Although Ethan had been living in that same apartment for a while, now, he didn’t mind it as much. With a bit of furniture of his own that he had managed to purchase after putting money aside, it put a better touch to it. However, the air conditioning unit deciding to break during the summer wasn’t exactly the annual highlight of his year. Nonetheless, Ethan would get a new apartment when he finally found a _consistent_ steady job that gave him the means to afford one. Working for Mark was nice, but it would be all over in nine months, and the majority of the money he made was already going over to his rent in the first place. The young man would find something, though. He would make it work.

Ethan’s attention was grasped as he focused out the other window, his eyes widening a bit as he was met with someone standing on the fire escape, their back facing him. The young man moved closer, his heart nearly beating out of his chest, his eyes squinting as he peered through the glass to see who it was. After all, it wasn’t every day there was a fucking _stranger_ standing on the fire escape. Ethan wondered if he should go get Mark, until he finally got a closer look, a sigh of relief escaping his lips within the next second. The person standing on the fire escape _was_ Mark. What he was doing out there at this time was beyond the young man, but he wasn’t going to argue with it, especially considering the fact that he thought some random guy had managed to make his way all the way up there. Ethan pondered for a few seconds whether or not he should go out there as well. It wasn’t that he was worried about the fire escape not supporting their weight, or anything…he just didn’t know if the older man wanted to be _bothered_. After a few seconds of hesitation, Ethan wrapped the blanket around his shoulders a little tighter, running a hand through his hair before he reached over. His fingertips hooked over carefully underneath one of the grips of the window, the young man letting out a soft grunt as he pulled it up. Mark flinched slightly in a return to the sudden noise, quickly glancing over his shoulder to see who had done it. However, his body-language comforted as soon as he realized it was just Ethan. 

The young man smiled awkwardly from inside the apartment, shifting forward so that he could crawl out onto the fire escape. Mark shifted over, making enough room for his friend so they could stand beside each other. It wasn’t the most spacious place in the world, although it wasn’t exactly cramped. Ethan smiled shyly, pulling himself to his feet before standing beside the older man, the two of them standing there in a comforting silence for a few seconds. It was a wonderful thing, really…knowing someone so well that every moment of silence wasn’t considered ‘awkward’. Instead…it was considered understanding, as if they already knew what was on the other’s mind. So, they remained like that for a few seconds. Ethan didn’t say anything, and neither did Mark. They simply stood side by side, their gaze both fixed on a different part of a different skyscraper, although they stared out at the city just the same.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Mark questioned after a few more seconds of peacefulness, being the first one to break the silence. The older man didn’t glance over though, simply allowing his gaze to stare off in the distance, the same as it had before. Ethan thought about the question for a few seconds. Part of him felt like it would be rude to say so, especially since his friend had been kind enough to offer…but it would be inconsiderate to lie. So, to keep it balanced, he simply shrugged his shoulders, something Mar caught in his peripheral vision. “I couldn’t sleep, either,” the man admitted, this time being the one to shrug his shoulders as he shoved his hands in his pockets, exhaling heavily. Ethan watched as his friend’s breath almost magically transformed into a cloud of fog, drifting off elsewhere before disappearing into the air. “I just…well, I guess I had too many thoughts on my mind or something. I usually sleep pretty well, especially on Saturday’s…” his voice trailed off, a humorous grin spreading on his face as he glanced over to Ethan. “I guess it was your unsettling _aura_ that wouldn’t let me fall asleep,” Mark teased, his lips pursed as he smiled. The young man couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter, rolling his eyes good-naturedly in return.

“Well, hotshot, I couldn’t exactly fall asleep, either,” Ethan commented, humming softly under his breath. He kept his eyes fixed forward, but he knew well enough that his friend was still looking at him. Part of Ethan wanted to look back…part of him just wanted to turn his head slightly to the left, so his chin would be pressed ever so gently against his shoulder…and he would be able to look back at him. A piercing gaze, one that they could find themselves trapped in for at least a minute. He couldn’t, though. The man didn’t know _why_ he couldn’t…but he listened to that part of him. “So, if anything, _your_ aura was the one that was keeping me from sleeping. It didn’t like a new intruder in the apartment.” Mark chuckled in return, causing the young man to purse his lips to stop himself from smiling. “Maybe our auras just fuckin hate each other, and they just wanted to fight,” Ethan prompted finally, a small grin on his face. The older man hummed, almost as if he was thinking about it. “What, you don’t like that?” The younger teased.

“Well, I don’t think our auras could hate each other,” Mark admitted simply. The younger man cocked his eyebrow, almost taken aback by the statement. The man sounded almost… _genuine_. His voice lacked the joking undertone that it had a mere few seconds ago, which was more than enough for Ethan to shiver a bit. The brunette thought about the statement for a few seconds…he could fucking _feel_ Mark’s eyes burning into the side of his head. God, if only the older man knew how it made the younger feel…if only he cared enough to just look away and spare Ethan the humiliation if his face decided to go flush. He breathed out softly, allowing himself to glance back over to Mark. Sure enough, his friend was gazing back at him, his pupils dilating once their eyes finally met. The young man sucked in a heavy breath, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he just _looked_ at him, not knowing what he was supposed to say. Ethan wasn’t even sure if the moment needed words. Was this normal? Just two friends staring at each other as they stood on a fire escape, which held a limited amount of space, almost as if they were challenging the other to see who would glance away first. The young man left out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Mark gave a smile, almost as if he was amused…almost as if he didn’t know that he was going to be the death of the brunette.

“And why is that?” Ethan asked. He meant to ask it in a smug, playful way…but his voice came out soft and airy, almost as if he was _truly_ questioning him. Mark straightened up, leaning his elbow gently against the rail of the fire escape as he stared back at him. The older man pursed his lips, smiling a bit. 

“Because you and I already get along so well,” the older man whispered in return, his voice matching Ethan’s. The young man sucked in a quick breath, just staring back at him, awkwardly shifting. Why was the older man’s voice so… _serious_? Ethan knew that his friend meant it and all, but there wasn’t even the slightest hint of a joking, playful nature in it. 

“Well, uh, yuh-yeah,” the brunette managed in return, smiling awkwardly before he looked away, his chest tightening. He leaned his elbows against the railing, resting his chin in his hands, breathing softly as he tried to recompose himself. Mark’s gaze lingered before he eventually glanced away. “You know, I’ve never really had a super close friend before this,” Ethan admitted, biting his lip. “You just…you mention all the time how you’ve never had a friend before…I just thought you should know that you’re my first… _best_ friend.” He smiled a bit to himself. He felt like some stupid kid in elementary school when he said it like that. “Like, I’ve had friends before and everything, but that doesn’t count when you’re a toddler. You’re only friends with another person because your parents are friends with their parents, and you just end up being dragged into everything until the point where you guess you _might as well_ get to know the other person. It’s kinda like Stockholm syndrome, but with like… _friends_ , and you’re like…six.” Mark laughed softly from the comment. “I dunno what I was trying to say…just thought I’d let you know that the appreciation goes two ways and everything. I mean, you’re great. You’ve been really helpful recently, and you’re not even doing it for any _self-gain_. Like, that's….it’s… _you’re_ amazing.” He smiled breathlessly, almost as if he was dumbfounded.

“You really think so, huh?” Mark asked, humming to himself. The young man shifted, tugging his blanket up onto his shoulders again once it started to slip. The older man pursed his lips, chuckling a bit. “I mean, I do sort of personally gain from you, you know… _eating_ again.” Ethan cocked his eyebrow, but he didn’t glance at him…he knew that his friend would only look back, and that wasn’t anything he wanted. “I don’t know what I would do with myself if I had to live knowing that you were doing…well, I guess _not_ doing…that. Just sitting there and not doing anything…it would have been stupid. It would have been like…seeing somebody choking, and not doing anything to help them. Even if you don’t succeed, you can at least _try_ to help…so I decided I was gonna try.” Ethan could almost sense the smile in the way he spoke, although he didn’t allow himself to look over and get a glimpse. “And I’m gonna succeed… _we’re_ gonna succeed, okay? Both of us.” Ethan shifted, his hands resting on the railing instead as he looked down at them, his heart beating steadily. 

“You’re a great friend…” Ethan breathed out, almost in disbelief as to how he had managed to make a friend like Mark. How he had managed to only knowing him as Charlotte’s father from daycare…to sleeping on his fucking couch in the living room, all whilst the older man helped him with his eating disorder. It surely wasn’t anything he had expected…and it wasn’t anything he wanted to let go of either. That was the awful thing about liking Mark in this way…at the end of the day, they were friends. He already had everything he could have ever wanted from him. He was able to stay for dinners, and they could talk endlessly on the phone or over text without anything being awkward…they shared the middle ground of helping care for Charlotte, and that was all Ethan needed to be happy. The brunette didn’t _need_ anything more. When he had his best friend by his side, he knew well enough he could be content…this should be enough to make his happy. This should be _more_ than enough to satisfy him. Once Ethan was kicked out of college, he never thought he would amount to anything…yet here he was, a major part of another person’s life, all while his friend was a significant part of his. That was everything. That was more than anyone could have ever asked for in their life, and he was practically living somebody’s dream. After going almost his entire life without someone this close…he had finally done it. The man had finally made a friend.

But it wasn’t enough. Ethan wanted more, and the man didn’t know if it made him a hopeless romantic or just _incredibly_ selfish; he was on the line of putting everything at risk. Their friendship, his lifestyle, the way he was able to watch Charlotte every day for Mark. That would all be at stake if he were to take a chance…and if he let it go, there would be a chance that he couldn’t get it back. If all else failed, Ethan wouldn’t have anything to lean on anymore. He didn’t want anything to be awkward between them, which was the entire _reason_ why he couldn’t go out of his way to make a move. Everything would be gone, and the brunette knew that well enough. But it was in human nature to want more…to _need_ more; to never be satisfied. And Ethan wasn’t satisfied with this, and it made him sick to his stomach because he _knew_ he should be. He knew this should be enough, and Ethan cursed at himself mentally knowing that part of him was willing to just…put everything on the line with a drop of a hat. It was… _selfish_. This wasn’t just the young man’s friendship, it was Mark’s too. They shared it, and Ethan was willing to risk it…part of him didn’t know what had gotten into him, but the other part of him was hungry to take action. _Starving_ for something more, something he had ever experienced in his life. It was just the curiosity of it all, the way his heart burned when he felt Mark glancing at him. It was the way his hand trembled ever so slightly when they were in each other’s presence…the way his breathing would quicken, only to slow when he listened to the older man’s soothing voice. It was painful. It was torturous what he was doing to himself. _Why_ was he doing this to himself?

Why was the young man continuing to even… _humor_ this romanticized idea that he had imagined for himself? It wasn’t fair to anyone. It wasn’t fair to him, and it _especially_ wasn’t fair to Mark. What would his friend say if he knew? What would he think of him? Ethan didn’t know what he would do with himself if the older man could bear to be around him anymore, and all because of something the younger did. The young man could hardly understand why he was doing this to himself…but then he remembered. Because the entire concept of it all was just fucking irresistible. _Mark_ was fucking irresistible, and the younger man didn’t know why it had taken him so long to realize…how he hadn’t managed to melt the second he had first seen him. Ethan couldn’t even comprehend how the man had gone on dates and had been _rejected_. It seemed almost impossible. God, the young man wished he had been one of them…he wished the odds had been miraculously in his favor, and they could have skipped the bullshit. Oh if _only_ he had been different…the world would have practically been made for them. Ethan shook the thoughts away. He couldn’t…he wouldn’t…he _wanted to_. 

“And, I won’t even draw the line at a great friend, no,” the young man continued, clearing his throat to steady his breathing. “You’re a great… _person_. A great father, a great employee, I bet you were a great fucking boyfriend.” Ethan stared out at the skyscrapers… _longing_. “But, above all, you’re the greatest friend I could have ever asked for. It’s just so… _easy_ being around you. It feels so natural. I don’t have to fake anything, and it’s obvious you don’t either. I’ve just…I don’t know, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. Every way you’ve helped me. And believe me, I’m _beyond_ happy that you got that promotion. You deserved it…you _deserve_ it.” Mark shifted closer to him. Ethan couldn’t look away from the skyscrapers. His eyes lit up from the light that was projected off of then, glistening and enticing. That longing feeling Ethan felt whenever he looked at them…it was stronger this time. More powerful. Beyond the man’s control. The only thing on his mind was how cold it was…and Mark. Everything about him…every _wonderful_ thing about him, and the fact that he was standing adjacent to him. The comfortable silence filled the air between them, moving through their lungs as they dared to breathe. The fact that Ethan was still even breathing was a fucking _miracle_. 

“You really think so?” Mark whispered softly. The young man could feel his hands wrapping tighter around the railing of the fire escape, he could practically _feel_ them turned red from the cold and the firm grip. God, Ethan _knew so_. There was no doubt about it. The man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hoping that his friend couldn’t hear how _loud_ his heart was beating…the younger could feel it echoing in his ears. Throbbing…hopelessly. It was just the two of them alone, the man realized. Over fifty feet in the air, side by side, looking off to the horizon because the sky was void of stars. It almost pained him to speak…like the thought of breaking the wonderful silence would _kill him_. Ethan remembered when he had once stood alone on his own fire escape, back at his cheap-ass apartment after getting first kicked out of college. He had felt so incredibly lonely, his eyes looking out at the skyscrapers longingly, wishing a life for himself that he would never have without a degree. Everything he had ever known or ever dreamed for himself, _crumbling_. It had crumbled before him…but now, things were different. Ethan found himself just standing beside Mark, allowing himself to dream again, although it was nothing like he had hoped for previously. 

“I know so,” Ethan murmured, thinking out loud. He looked down at the street below, watching a car pass by. “I knew before I even met you, really. After all, you were the only person Charlotte would ever talk about in daycare. I had only known you as this ‘perfect person’.” The young man smiled to himself. “You were pretty shit at doing her hair sometimes, though.”

Mark scoffed playfully in return, the mood automatically shifting to a natural good-natured tone. There was no facade to it…just two friends. “You know, I tried my _best_ with that,” he explained, a mock defense. 

“That makes it worse,” the younger teased.

“Oh, like you were any better,” his friend joked, a soft laugh filling the air. “I mean, the fact that I managed to do a better braid on my _first try_ then you were able to do, even already knowing how to, is saying something. Not judging, but you could do better.” Ethan grinned, finally allowing himself to look over. He tugged the blanket up onto his shoulders again. Mark pursed his lips. “So, why couldn’t you sleep?” He questioned, changing the subject. “Is the sofa-bed uncomfortable?”

Ethan shifted, a little caught off-guard by the question, but he accepted it nonetheless. “No, it’s nothing like that,” he explained quickly, a smile growing on his lips as he shook his head. “The sofa-bed was wonderful, really. I think it was the same reason as you, honestly. Just…thinking about too much stuff. At some point, it’s kind of like you’re listening to something that won’t let you fall asleep. You know?” Mark grinned, nodding in return. “Believe me, though, the sofa-bed was nice. Any other night I would have been able to sleep just fine…just not tonight.” Mark pursed his lips for a few seconds, as if he was thinking. The brunette fell silent, waiting.

“What were you thinking about?” His friend questioned finally. Ethan sucked in a heavy breath.

“What were _you_ thinking about?” Ethan asked in return, a playful smile on his face.

Mark chuckled softly. “I asked you first,” he mentioned. The young man shifted. How exactly does one tell their friend that the reason they couldn’t sleep was that they were thinking about _them_? Surely impossible. He couldn’t. Ethan pursed his lips, his right arm reaching to hold the railing again. The older man cocked his eyebrow, a longing look in his eyes. 

“Just…you know,” the young man whispered, his voice trailing off as he shrugged his shoulders, “stuff.” _Stuff_? God, it was worse than asking a child what they had done at school that afternoon. Nevertheless, Ethan fell silent, saying nothing more.

“What kinda stuff?”

“You’re awfully nosy,” the young man giggled.

“What can I say, I’m a curious bird,” Mark joked, quoting from one of the various children’s books that Charlotte owned. _Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus_ , Ethan assumed. The older man shifted, humming softly. “Come on, seriously. What was it? Humor me.” The young man bit his lip, not really knowing what he supposed to say. Lying had never really been his strong point, but he had to think of _something_. After all, the brunette couldn’t just genuinely admit that he was thinking about Mark…that _he_ had been the reason he couldn’t sleep. That was just… _beyond_ embarrassing, not to mention the fact that it was extremely uncalled for. He shouldn’t be thinking about him. It was crossing the boundaries that Ethan was trying so hard to keep for himself, although he failed relentlessly each and every time. It was nearly impossible.

“I was just thinking about my parents and all that,” Ethan lied, shrugging his shoulders, the blanket slumping down a bit, resting on his forearms. “Just…you know, how I won’t be with them for Christmas this year. Not like it’s anything new, though. I haven’t spent the holidays with them in a while, so it’s nothing to worry about.” His friend wore a sympathetic smile, nodding his head in return and looking like he wished he hadn’t asked. The man had bought it. Ethan stood there for a few seconds, his heart skipping a beat as Mark took a step closer. They hardly had enough space as it was. The young brunette kept his eyes on his friend, watching as the man reached over carefully to simply readjust his blanket, returning it to his shoulders. Ethan couldn’t help but give a watery smile in return, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself from the gesture. His friend smiled kindly in return.

“Well, you’re gonna be staying with us,” Mark reminded him. “I’m not sure if it’ll be exactly the same, or if it’ll be as good as it was spending Christmas with your family…but we’re sure as hell gonna try. I’ve never really spent Christmas with anyone else besides Charlotte for quite some time now, so I wouldn’t mind a change of scenery.” The young man shifted, smiling shyly in return. “Have you thought about what you wanted for Christmas.”

Ethan let out a soft huff of laughter,.

“Please don’t get me anything,” the young man returned. “You’ve already given me so much.”

“Well, I’m getting you something whether you like it or not,” Mark retorted, grinning.

“You’re impossible,” Ethan murmured, smiling a bit. The older man just shrugged, smiling a bit as he leaned his left elbow on the railing, his gaze lingering on his friend. The brunette just stared back at him, not knowing exactly what to say. It really was nice…just being able to stand there in silence, looking at each other. Mark’s pupils dilated. “I, uh,” the young man stammered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Could you, um, possibly make coffee?” He questioned, his heart starting to race out of his chest when he realized the older man was leaning over toward him again…in just a subtle way. Part of the man honestly panicked, so that was the only thing he had managed to choke out…how he wanted _coffee_. Mark paused, drawing backward and recollecting himself. The young man smiled awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Sorry, just…I would have made it myself, but I didn’t know where anything was and I thought you were asleep, so I obviously wasn’t about to _wake you up_ to get coffee…but you’re here now, and I just thought maybe…” his voice trailed off as he scratched the back of his neck. “So…please?”

Mark chuckled softly. “All you had to do was ask,” he mentioned. Ethan smiled a bit, nodding his head in return. “Do you take it with anything?”

Ethan pursed his lips. “With half-and-half and sugar,” he decided.

Mark smiled. “Coming right up,” he whispered playfully. The young man shifted. “You can stay here, if you’d like. I’ll be right out. The sun is about to rise soon, so we’ll probably be able to watch that while we’re drinking our coffee?” Ethan’s cheeks almost went flush at the thought. “Does that sound like something you would be interested in?”

Ethan nodded eagerly.

“That sounds perfect,” he admitted, cringing slightly on the inside when he realized he might have come off too strong, but he didn’t say anything. The young man simply watched as Mark opened the window, slipping back into the apartment. Ethan’s gaze lingered on him through the glass as he left for the kitchens and the man couldn’t help but sigh contently before he turned to look at the skyscrapers again. Sure enough, he now noticed a bit of light peeking up over the horizon, something he would be looking forward to watching. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, watching a sunrise…but it seemed to be more special when he was doing it with a friend…or with someone he wanted to consider more than a friend. Particularly the second option. Ethan hummed, just allowing himself to take everything in. The city always seemed to be filled with such life when he was sharing the view with a friend…almost as if it wasn’t the same sunrise that he could just as easily watch from his own apartment window in the morning, something that he had neglected to do. It was different now, though… _everything_ was different around Mark. Not just different, though…it was better. Much better.

Ethan looked down at his hands, fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt as he waited for Mark to come back with the coffee. He bit his lower lip, thinking about something silently. Ethan…wanted to kiss him. Mark. He wanted to…badly. When the older man had leaned forward, although it had been a somewhat teasing gesture…part of the young wanted to just bite the bullet and lean forward. The brunette ran a hand through his hair, sighing with frustration. Why did he have to be like this? Why couldn’t he just be _normal_ around his friend? Friends weren’t supposed to want to kiss; that was a line that wasn’t supposed to be cross. Ethan was toeing this line, however, and he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to keep everything up until he snapped. The straw that would break the camel’s back was coming soon, and the young man didn’t know if he would be able to confront it…or just fucking _run_. Everything was far more complicated than it needed to be, that was for sure.

The young man flinched at the sound of the window opening.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, who else would be at the window?” He could hear Mark joking from behind him. Ethan relaxed a bit, smiling to himself before glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, the older man was standing inside the apartment, picking a coffee cup off of the floor now that he had gotten the window open. He reached his arm out, resting the cups on the fire escape for Ethan to grab. The young brunette took them, giving his friend the space he needed to climb out again. He handed Mark his cup of coffee once he was out. “Thanks,” Mark commented.

“No problem,” Ethan returned, feeling the heat radiating off of the cup and against his cup. He sighed contently, bringing the mug to his lips and taking a sip. He glanced at Mark, giggling a bit. “Sorry, I just like coffee,” was all he could manage, shifting. “Makes me feel warm.”

“I think the _blanket_ is making you feel warm,” his friend joked, gesturing to it as it draped over his shoulders. “Just an observation, though.” 

Ethan smiled, shifting over to his friend. He sucked in a heavy breath before he carefully repositioned the blanket the long way, meaning there was enough room for it to drape over both their shoulders, although he couldn’t wrap it around them. “Well, how about that?” He suggested.

“Better,” Mark admitted, taking a sip of coffee. He paused. “What’d’you wanna do today?”

Ethan took another sip of coffee, looking out at the horizon. The sun was rising painfully slow in the distance, but he didn’t care. He was sharing his blanket with Mark, allowing himself to enjoy the comfortable silence between sentences as they each sipped away at a cup of coffee. “No idea,” he admitted.

“The park?” Mark suggested.

Ethan leaned his head gently against his friend’s shoulder.

“Sounds perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first kiss is probably gonna come soon  
> Not even gonna lie  
> Get ready
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated, they give me life
> 
> Love you,  
> Simply!
> 
> (P.S.)  
> A bit of a shorter chapter today, but still good. Expect a longer chapter for the next one. Who knows, though? Not me, lol.


	32. Leave You Wanting More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big tired. Please enjoy

Mark glanced up from his laptop at the kitchen table, allowing himself to look over into the living room. The man had been answering emails for the majority of the morning, wanting to get a head start so he could go with Ethan and Charlotte to the playground.Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of people in the company who he had to become acquainted with now that he was taking a new promotion. For one, it was the fact that he would have new co-workers, although he wouldn’t exactly be interacting with them as much. Work-life would certainly be different for him, considering he would no longer be working in a cubicle. That was all Mark had ever wanted, though, so there was no complaint. Although, he supposed it would take a little bit of time to get used to the lack of various keyboard keys clicking through the air, or other people in cubicles adjacent to him tapping their pen against their desk as they sorted through everything. Not being able to _see_ people as frequently as he had would certainly be an adjustment as well. After all, it seemed as if every few minutes there would be someone walking by his cubicle, whether it be to go to the bathroom, deliver paperwork to a different floor, or to take a lunch-break that Mark would constantly be skipping. Not to mention someone peeking their head into his cubicle to ask if they could borrow a pencil.

A lot of people had emailed him with congratulations, which was honestly something Mark hadn’t expected. He was surprised that people even _knew_. After all, it had all been in the spur of a moment, Mr. Thomsen pulling him aside toward the end of the meeting. At the time, the man had assumed that he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do, although he hadn’t quite done anything. Maybe the older man had caught him dazing off? Although Mark wouldn’t regularly admit it, he had indeed been dazing off at the meeting. Not falling asleep, or resting his head on the table, thank God. He didn’t know what he would do with himself if that had been the case. Instead, he sort of found himself just staring off into space. Sure, his gaze had been relatively fixed on whoever was talking, or whoever was currently presenting…but he hadn’t really been _there_. His mind was drifting elsewhere, all while part of him silently hoped that no one would ask him a question. Mark didn’t _mean_ to, of course. It wasn’t like he had intentionally decided to not pay attention during certain parts. One thought simply lead to the other, and the next thing he knew there was a train of ideas and imaginations that were dragging him away from the matter at hand. They were good thoughts though…thoughts that he would never admit to, of course, even if someone had questioned him about it. 

Mark had been thinking about Ethan…God, practically the entire time. There hadn’t really been an extended period of time throughout the meeting where the younger man hadn’t crossed his mind at least once. It was embarrassing, he knew that well enough, but the man couldn’t help himself. It had most frequently been when Joseph had been presenting though. Mark didn’t want anyone to think he was spiteful about the entire situation, although he was, so he forced himself to look up at the screen while his co-worker spoke. However, instead of actually paying attention and feeling upset…he allowed his thoughts to wander. At first, it was only about getting home, because although he was eager to prove himself to everyone…he was exhausted; _beyond_ tired. Once he started thinking about home, though…he thought about Ethan. Mark didn’t know why, and he knew it was stupid, but once he started daydreaming he just couldn’t stop. His mind was trapped in his own romanticized thoughts as he forced himself not to swivel childishly in his chair. After all, it was hardly impossible to _not_ think about Ethan…he was over all the time, after all. When Mark was happiest, usually after getting home from work…he was there. Usually sitting in the living room, Charlotte either beside him or in his lap, depending on what they were doing…and the young man would just glance at him and _smile_. 

Most of the greatest parts of his day were spent with Ethan, now that he realized it. When he got up in the morning, after getting ready for work and enjoying as much time at his apartment as he could before leaving…his friend was there. When he got back, Ethan was there. When they were eating dinner, talking and joking amongst themselves as they mentioned how their day was, despite the fact that the man would ask the younger several times to eat something…he was there. And, recently, the young brunette would even linger after dinner, and the three of them would either watch a movie together or play a simple board game. That was when Mark was happiest…when he was with Charlotte and Ethan. He hardly knew what he was going to do with himself when the nine months were up, and when his friend wouldn’t be around as much. As much as the man _wanted_ Ethan to be around…well, what would he be paying him for? He knew his friend well enough, the younger man wouldn’t allow Mark to pay him if he wasn’t doing anything productive. So, Ethan’s time would be occupied by a different job, possibly one that didn’t allow him the time to come over for dinner anymore…maybe not even on the weekends. That was going to be more than enough to shatter a good portion of the excitement in Mark’s life. If he had an ounce of courage in him, he knew well enough that he would have said something to Ethan by now…he would have made a move, or at least attempted to show that he liked him as more than a friend. But he hadn’t, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to. But _God_ , he wanted to so desperately.

Ethan had gotten him through one of the most stressful periods of his life, where he had been vying for a promotion. Even if Kaitlyn had still been around, the man knew that she would hardly have been any help at all. If anything, she would have complained about how he wasn’t spending as much time focusing on her anymore, or possibly mentioning that him staying up late working was getting in the way of their sex-life, or maybe accusing him of choosing work over her. Mark knew his ex-girlfriend like the back of his hand, even if they weren’t together anymore. Life would have become more than a living hell for him if they were still together. Ethan though…Ethan was nothing like Kaitlyn. He was far better than her, in practically every way. He was adorable, and giddy, and weird, but in the best way. And, above all, he really cared about Charlotte…and Mark was starting to realize it wasn’t just because he was getting paid. The young man genuinely seemed to appreciate his daughter, and that was more than Mark could ever ask for. God, it was like the serpent with the apple. He was being fucking _tempted_ with something he had always wanted…something he had yearned for _years_ now.

Mark had been looking for someone who could actually… _like him_ in a way that no one had since Kaitlyn. Every date he went on, no one was interested once he mentioned his daughter…once he mentioned his pride and _joy_. The second he ended it, the date was practically over. Sure, they would finish their walk, or their meal, or whatever they were doing…and Mark would always walk them home…but that was where the communication ended. Always as soon as it started, he realized. And it was almost unfair, because Mark loved Charlotte more than anything in the world, and he just knew that people would see the same if they gave it a chance, but they wouldn’t…when he told them, they no longer wanted to give _either of them_ a chance. But now…now Mark had Ethan. Someone who was fucking _perfect_ , and he loved being around Charlotte. His friend loved reading her stories, and watching movies with her, and playing board games on the carpet even when it was uncomfortable, and tucking her in at night. The man called her honey and kissed her forehead…it was like a dream come true, Ethan was a _dream come true_. It was enough to make Mark sick, he was perfect…and he was right there. Any second of the day, Mark could just tug him aside and just fucking _kiss him_. He could subtly ask him on a date, or just confess all together…but…he wouldn’t. As much as Mark knew he could, he just felt like he couldn’t.

Mark and Ethan…they were _friends_. Why would he ruin something so perfect when this would be lasting for another nine months anyway? The man had never had a friend like this before in over six years…he wasn’t going to throw away the greatest thing in his life just because it was what _he_ wanted. What if that wasn’t what Ethan wanted? What if the young man became weirded out if Mark brought up the subject, thus ending their friendship only a month after it had started? Then what? Then what was the man supposed to do? There was no one like Ethan in his workplace, that was for sure. He wouldn’t just be able to…find some replacement. How could he? His friend was one of a kind, it didn’t take a genius to figure that out. And God, Charlotte adored him…how could he replace that? He couldn’t, that was the only logical response. Ethan _couldn’t_ be replaced…Mark didn’t know if his heart would be able to handle it. After being stepped on for six fucking years, maybe even a little more than that…he wanted someone again. The man wanted someone he could call his…he wanted _Ethan_ to be his. Mark had never wanted someone so desperately as he wanted his friend, and just the fact that if he made a move he could possibly fuck everything up…it was a sickening thought that was enough to make him throw up or get lightheaded. Wanting someone so bad but knowing you can’t have them…it was the worst feeling in the world.

But it was so tempting. Everything about the entire situation was enticing, even if Mark didn’t know if it was worth gambling. It was just the thoughts that Mark had allowed himself to romanticize silently throughout the past week, most of them involving his lips pressed against Ethan’s. God, it would be perfect. He hadn’t…he hadn’t kissed anyone in six years. It was almost embarrassing, now that he thought about it, but who kisses on the first date anyway? And since he had never been given a second chance after the first outing, there hadn’t been an _option_ for a second-date kiss. Mark had practically been starved of it to the point where he almost forgot what it was like. He forgot what it was like to sleep next to someone…to wrap his arms around someone as he dozed off, his chest pressed against their back with the covers draped over them. It was a feeling that was seemingly lost in time, something only built from a memory. Mark couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be in love. Liking someone was one thing; Mark _liked_ Ethan…but he didn’t know what it was like to love someone anymore. It had been far too long since that last occurrence. He could hardly believe there had actually been a time where he had loved someone, and they had loved him back. The thought of it was almost surreal, considering he had been starved of the mutual feeling for so long. 

God, Mark wasn’t in elementary school. There was no reason for him to be… _hiding_ the way he felt, like some kid who wouldn’t answer the ridiculous ‘who do you like?’ Truth or Dare question. Then, the man looked up from his computer again, smiling as he saw Ethan laying on his back, his arms outstretched as he held Charlotte like she was flying. His daughter giggled hysterically in her babysitter’s arm, giving a string of ‘again!’ and ‘higher’ as she went. That was the reason he was hiding it…because Ethan made him fucking weak at the knees. The young man smiled as he looked up at Charlotte, a flicker in his eyes before he set her down beside him, catching his breath; it was obvious he had been doing that for quite some time now. Mark’s gaze lingered on him, watching as the young man smiled, rolling onto his stomach as he gave a mock look of defeat, still looking at Charlotte and smiling. The older man glanced at his email, one of which he was halfway through writing. Just another email to one of his co-workers, since they were planning a business meeting the day he got back to work. After all, he had to become aquatinted with everybody, get a folder with everything he would be working on, along with a list of upcoming projects he was expected to attend conferences for. It was definitely a new feeling…but he loved it nonetheless. Mark felt… _important_. For once, there were people who felt as if they were counting on him, and he didn’t want to let that feeling go. So, he allowed himself to stare at his email for a few seconds, before remembering someone much more important than work… _Charlotte_.

After all, the young girl had put up with him rushing around constantly stressed out, not finding the time to tuck her in, and him being beyond tired in the morning…all without complaint. Never once did she ask him more than once to read her a bedtime story, and she would go to bed without a word, or would let Ethan tuck her in. Mark wasn’t going to allow himself to put something he could do tomorrow in front of his daughter…not again. Reluctantly, he closed the laptop, smiling to himself as he got up from the kitchen chair. Ethan glanced over upon hearing the noise, sitting up a bit, although he didn’t pick himself up from the carpet. The older man walked over, his hands shoved in his front pockets. His daughter giggled a bit, looking at him happily.

“Alright, Charlotte,” Mark announced, crouching down slightly so that he was on his daughter’s level. Charlotte grinned, toddling over to him and beaming happily, shifting as she waited for him to continue. “I finished all my work up, so I’m thinking you and I celebrate you being good this week.” The young girl’s eyes lit up happily. “Do you wanna go to the playground?”

Charlotte nodded eagerly, a large smile spread across her face. “Now?” She asked curiously.

Mark couldn’t help but let out a soft huff of laughter. “Yes, now,” the man confirmed, gesturing his head over to the front door of their apartment. “Go get your shoes on and then we can go. We’ll stay there as long as you want, how does that sound?” The young girl stepped forward, practically leaping into her father’s arms as she wrapped him in a hug, a soft giggle following. Mark’s heart warmed at the gesture, his shoulders relaxing as he kissed her cheek. He pulled away, standing to his feet and watching as Charlotte rushed over to the door, nearly tripping over herself in attempts to get her shoes on faster. As always, she had to check to make sure she was putting them on the right feet, but she slipped them on quickly enough and fixed the velcro. Mark couldn’t help but chuckle as he walked over to the door, reaching over for his jacket from the coat stand because he didn’t know if it would be cold out. The young girl reached up, trying to get hers, but could only end up tugging on the sleeves. The man smiled, letting out a soft huff of laughter as he retrieved the jacket for her, watching as she smiled happily and pulled it on with excitement. Even though the man was sure she had been to the park at least twice with Ethan this week, she sure did seem like she had been starved of it for a whole year.

Mark hummed, glancing over his shoulder at Ethan. The young man had shifted onto the couch, looking as if he felt out of place as he shoved his hands in his front pockets, glancing over at the wall as if he would find something interesting. The older man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, cocking his eyebrow ever so slightly. “Come on, get your shoes on,” he insisted, smiling a bit as he gestured his head over to the door. The brunette glanced away from the wall, his eyes flickering a bit from the comment, almost as if he was surprised.

“You want me to come too?” He questioned.

Mark scoffed good-naturedly, rolling his eyes. “ _Yes_ , dummy,” he returned, pointing his hand over to the young man’s shoes. “Now get your shoes on.” Ethan smiled shyly, pursing his lips before pulling himself off of the couch, walking over to put his shoes on. The man couldn’t help but smile when he realized that his friend was still wearing the sweatshirt he had let him borrow. He didn’t know _why_ he would be wearing anything else, since he hadn’t exactly brought a change of clothes with him…but it was nice nonetheless. “Do you want a jacket?” He offered.

“No, the sweatshirt is fine,” Ethan commented, raising his shoulders happily once he had finished tying his laces. “Soft.”

Mark chuckled. “Glad you like it,” he returned, smiling a bit. “You better give it back though, or I’m taking it out of your paycheck.” The young man smiled a bit, giving his friend a playful shove. Mark grinned, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Alrighty, Char,” he continued, looking down at his daughter and patting her head gently. “You ready to go to the park…” his voice trailed off as he pursed his lips teasingly, “or maybe we can just stay home and you can clean your room and go to bed five hours early.” Charlotte giggled, knowing her father was only kidding. Mark glanced at his friend. “What’d’you think, Eth? That sound like a good plan?”

“I think it sounds like a great plan,” the young man replied good-naturedly.

“Daddy, _pleeaaase_?” Charlotte pleaded, grinning as she looked up at her father, stepping forward to stand on his feet. He chuckled softly, ruffling her hair in return. “I wanna play tag and stuff.”

“You wanna play tag and stuff?” Mark teased.

“Uh-huh,” the young girl returned.

“Well, now that I know you wanna play _tag and stuff_ ,” the man joked, smiling a bit, “I think we should get going.” He looked at Ethan. “Sorry, buddy, guess we’re gonna be going to the park instead of cleaning rooms.” The young brunette rolled his eyes playfully, as if he had expected any less from his friend. The older man simply grinned, grabbing his keys before opening the door for his daughter, watching as she rushed out carefully. “Don’t press the elevator button until I get there!” he called after her, continuing to hold the door for Ethan.

“I won’t!” Charlotte confirmed.

Mark smiled a bit, glancing over to his friend. The young man smiled, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “Thanks,” he said, in regards to the older man holding the door. Ethan paused, shifting a bit. “For holding the door, and for inviting me,” he admitted, giggling a bit as he looked at his friend genuinely. “I mean, I still feel like I’m intruding on a family outing or something, but it really does mean a lot. It’s…thoughtful.” He shifted, almost as if he was uncomfortable. “Even though I still feel like I shouldn’t be going…”

The older man gave him a sympathetic smile. “Come on, you know better than that,” he insisted, noticing how Ethan shrugged his shoulders in return. “You really think that I wouldn’t invite you? I mean, first of all, you’re my guest for today. Did you honestly expect me to just leave you home alone on the couch all afternoon?” Ethan thought about it for a few seconds, reluctantly giving a shy nod of his head, almost regretful. “Well, I’m _not_. I would never.” Mark paused. “And besides that…we’re friends. I mean, you’re a big part of Charlotte’s life now too, even if you’re just her babysitter, and I know that she would want to have you there too. I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it…” his voice trailed off. “I mean…I want you there.”

Ethan gave a weak smile, looking down any his feet for a few seconds before shyly glancing up at him. “You do?” He questioned.

“Obviously,” Mark scoffed good-naturedly. He paused, smiling a bit before he gestured his head to the apartment door again. “Now are you coming, or what? I don’t have all day, kiddo.”

“Call me that one more time, I swear to God,” the younger man retorted, attempting to keep a straight face although he couldn’t help but smile. Mark stepped aside, allowing his friend to exit the apartment. After a few seconds, he slipped out after him, closing the door behind him. The man glanced to his left, smiling happily as he watched Ethan rushing over to Charlotte, the young girl giggling happily once he had joined them. Mark sucked in a heavy breath, sighing contently before he followed after them. Today was going to be a good day.

∞§—————§∞

Mark smiled to himself as he felt Charlotte reach up to grab his hand, holding it happily in hers. He glanced down at her, noticing how she smiled up at him as they walked down the sidewalk, making their way over to the park that the young girl loved going to. Sure enough, his daughter held Ethan’s hand as well, caught in the middle, and obviously overjoyed that both of them were going to the park with her. Mark’s eyes wandered over to his friend, noticing how he held Charlotte’s hand just the same, not even putting a second thought to it. Mark remembered how the young brunette had almost seemed _nervous_ holding Charlotte’s hand the first time, as if the older man would snap at him for even laying a finger on her. Now, though, it was obviously something that Ethan considered natural, and his eyes wandered over at the neighboring skyscrapers that they passed by. The older man had already pointed out the one to his daughter and friend as they walked by it, but most of the others still remained unfamiliar to him. Sure, he had seen them enough times that he _should_ remember what they looked like…but the man found that he barely spared them any attention. Thus, each time Mark marveled made it seem as if it was the first time he had noticed their existence, even if he was certain he had pointed them out before.

Mark couldn’t help but smile as he thought back to the only time he and Ethan had ever gone walking together with Charlotte. Well, it was back in early November, when the man had first met his friend. He supposed they hadn’t exactly been friends at the time, although it wasn’t because they didn’t like each other. It was just because they hardly _knew_ each other. Sure, his daughter had mentioned the young man’s name several times throughout the day while she wasn’t at daycare, but that was the extent of Mark’s knowledge about him. All he knew was that Ethan was good at braiding hair, reading stories, and listening to her when she talked. And, although part of the older man hadn’t really cared too much about the young when he first heard about him, he did appreciate how Charlotte would always smile when she shared stories of all the things she and Ethan had done that day. The young girl had been attending the daycare for about a month before Ethan showed up, and she had never anything nice to say about it. Never anything bad, either…she just never felt like sharing what she had done. Until, of course, the young man showed up…and apparently something just clicked, because one day she had walked home silent and the next she couldn’t stop talking about how Ethan had given her a piggyback ride.

He was all the young girl could mention for the following three months. Story after story about how Ethan finally brought a new coloring book to the daycare center, or about how he let her draw on his face, or how he allowed her to stay up during nap time to read a book with him. Mark had hardly paid the thought any attention about _who_ the man truly was…he just simply listened to his daughter, glad that’s he was finally enjoying one of the daycares she was sent to. After all, she had been going to daycare for years at that point, even if it was obvious she didn’t enjoy them. But, after three months of hearing the name ‘Ethan’ constantly throughout the day, whether it be while they were eating dinner, walking home from daycare, or even right before bed…it had sure peaked Mark’s interest. It wasn’t just the fact that he was protective over Charlotte and he wanted to know who was watching her throughout the day…it was also the fact that ‘Ethan’ sounded like a genuinely nice person. Of course, that was the thing with children. They usually only seemed to mention the good things about them. And, when Mark was looking for someone who could come over and babysit Charlotte during the day for him…sometimes he couldn’t exactly just blindly take his daughter’s word for it. Hence inviting the young man to go ice-skating with them, something the older man had planned in advance, but supposed adding another person wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Ethan hadn’t really been anything like Mark was expecting. He was much shyer…awkwardly walking beside Charlotte as they walked to the rink. The two of them hadn’t spoken much, not that there had been much to talk about anyway, the entire time. It was mostly just the both of them sparing a few glances at each other, obviously attempting to make assumptions about the other before even having a proper conversation. Ethan was young…Mark could still get him confused with a college student if he saw him walking through the city on his own; it wasn’t like the man had been expecting anyone older, but he certainly hadn’t expected someone who looked like they didn’t even know how to tie a tie. If the man had been forced to make a guess on how old Ethan was, he never would have said anything over twenty-one. Looking at him now, though, he supposed that he had been wrong to undershoot his age. Maybe his personality and maturity tied into it. Mark wasn’t sure. Either way, it was better walking with him now that they knew each other more. They were able to talk amongst themselves without feeling the awkward burden they had once carried before. And, even if they didn’t speak, there wasn’t really the uncomfortable silence that had once lingered on the first time they went out together. Instead…it as a silence filled with understanding. They knew well enough that the other was comfortable in their company, therefore they didn’t need to force conversation. The two of them could just exist as they were, walking together and both holding Charlotte’s hand without worrying about what they should say next. Mark supposed that was how you knew you had a good friend…when you could be silent around them and feel accepted at the same time.

The older man let out a soft huff of laughter as Charlotte tugged him a bit closer to her, evidently doing the same with Ethan, so they were in a comfortable arm’s reach from her, instead of stretched out. Mark glanced at his friend, Ethan’s eyes practically reading ‘ _You can’t really argue with her_ ’. 

Mark averted his eyes again, humming softly as they continued to walk. It really was a wonderful day to go to the park, he had realized. The sun was surprisingly comforting, but it wasn’t sweltering because it was winter, and there was always a chilly breeze blowing by. Thank goodness they had decided to bring their coats. Although Ethan hadn’t grabbed an additional layer, he appeared to be fine with just his sweatshirt. It wasn’t like the sun wasn’t providing _any_ warmth, after all. And to think that Mark could have been cooped up in the house for the rest of the afternoon and evening, most likely sitting at the edge of the bed with his laptop propped on his knees, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he answered email after email. A cycle repeating itself as he read almost the same monotone message of congratulations that was sent by one colleague after another, almost as if they had been copy-and-pasted, although slightly altered. Like a kid who copied someone else’s homework and pulled out a Thesaurus to spruce it up slightly. It was exciting, yet boring at the same time, Mark realized. He was beyond thrilled that he had received the promotion, and he obviously wasn’t going to take anything for granted…but the process of _entering_ that position just seemed to be tedious. It was all just answering emails, pretending like each message wasn’t the same as the last as he attempted to thank them in a unique way each time…only to fall at the same trouble they were. Always too repetitive. Of course, along with the congratulations, there was the occasional colleague _insisting_ that they set up a meeting together. Mark had never really been the person to have much on his schedule, but now he found himself attempting to clear it.

It was much more complicated than the man had originally assumed. Sorting out his calendar, making promises of having a business call three weekends ahead, when he didn’t even know what he was doing…all piled on top of the fact that he was expected to go through a series of paperwork with Mr. Thomsen the day he started up again; not to mention the fact that he had a meeting that very day. It was beyond stressful, yes, but it was only Saturday. Mark knew that he had the entire following day to get everything squared away, which wouldn’t even take that long, so he was surprised that part of him had debated staying cooped up in his room for the rest of the afternoon. There had been just that sliver of him back at the apartment that wondered if going to the park was even worth it. After all, Ethan could have just taken Charlotte, and that would have been that. The older man would have found the time to get everything sorted out, and his daughter would surely have enough fun at the park without him. After all, it was the same park, even when he wasn’t there. However, Mark had realized a few seconds into this thought that Charlotte needed more than just entertaining things thrown at her in attempts to make up for the fact that her father was busy…she _needed_ her father. Not just to make arrangements, or to tell someone else to take care of her for him…she needed him to be there for her; and Mark hadn’t been.

Mark hadn’t been there for her the last week and a half, and the fact that part of him even _humored_ the idea of sending her to the park alone with Ethan almost made him sick. For a few seconds, he didn’t even know himself. How could he honestly be so sure of himself to think that it was okay when it obviously wasn’t? Since when did he start taking the _back seat_? That was when Mark knew well enough that from then on, he wasn’t going to allow himself to put work before his daughter. He had too much pride to defeatedly admit that the reason he couldn’t read her a bedtime story for the second week in a row was that he had to read _emails_ ; that the reason he couldn’t tuck her in was that his boss had sent him a few records to review…something that he could get done afterward. The world that the older man had managed to dive head-first into during the previous week in the half was one he certainly didn’t want to return to…a world where he permitted himself to just _ignore_ Charlotte. It was awful, and he knew it. Mark _knew_ that it was bad, yet he had done it anyway. He had allowed himself to glance over her when she made those puppy-dog eyes of hers, all because chasing a promotion was what he considered ‘more important’. It was horrible, and Mark hardly recognized the mindset that he had been carrying throughout that past week.

Mark had promised himself that this would be where it stopped. From now on, he wasn’t just going to allow himself to put his work before her…how could he? The man had claimed it so proudly during the meeting: Charlotte was his world…his _life_ …he couldn’t imagine a world where he had never had her. Even though struggling to be able to financially support the two of them during the beginning, he had never regretted a _second_ of it. Never once did he think to himself that maybe life would be better without her…because he loved her. Mark loved him more than he could ever love himself…more than he loved life _itself_. If he had the mindset of allowing himself to quit his job for her in a heartbeat…surely that same mindset would stop him from answering an email, and would allow him to tuck her in instead. The older man smiled at the thought as he squeezed his daughter’s hand gently, glancing down at her. Things were going to be different from now on. Things were going to be better. Mark wasn’t going to allow himself to become like his ex-girlfriend…he wasn’t going to allow himself to put a dream in front of his own daughter. Kaitlyn might have made her decision a long time ago, but that wouldn’t stop the man from learning where she had made a mistake…she had made a mistake the second she decided that a life in Colorado came before her daughter. Mark wouldn’t let the same thing happen to him…he was going to love Charlotte until his own heart pained, and maybe even then some. She was worth it…she was worth _all_ of it.

“Charlotte?” Mark found himself asking, humming softly as he guided them around a left turn on the sidewalk. The young girl giggled as she trailed behind him, acknowledging his question. The man cleared his throat. “What would you like for Christmas?” It was a question that the man found himself asking every year, especially around this time of December, before he eventually spent a full day going Christmas shopping. His daughter was never the type to be picky, and she always seemed to understand that sometimes her father couldn’t always supply her with every gift she asked for…but for once Mark just hoped that he would be able to. Growing up…well, Mark had been far from wealthy. His dream growing up had always been to live a different life, and to be able to give a different lifestyle growing up for his kids, if he ever chose to have any. Yet, despite this mindset that had lingered with him for so long…he just couldn’t help but feel like he hadn’t met those standards yet. Sure, it wasn’t like they were dirt poor and living off of the extra change Mark managed to find underneath the couch…but things hadn’t exactly been easy the past few months. Having the cut expenses that some people would consider necessities, although they weren’t, hadn’t been the greatest experience ever. Part of him just wanted to give his daughter the whole… _proper_ Christmas experience. Santa, presents, being _happy_ instead of worrying that her father was faking a smile while he handed her a gift that she had not only never asked for…but was far too cheap to be considered a gift.

It wasn’t like Christmas was unbearable for them, of course. There was always the ever so wonderful _The Original Television Christmas Classics_ DVD collection that the man had watched with Charlotte ever since she was born, even though she wasn’t old enough to understand what was happening. Being able to read _The Night Before Christmas_ to her as she sat up in bed, admiring the detailed pictures that were unlike any of the illustrations found in any of the other storybooks she owned…knowing that his daughter thought of ‘Santa’ so fondly as she wished she could go to sleep faster…it was everything a parent could wish for. Mark had always done his best to make Christmas the best part of the year for his daughter. It was always something he himself had looked forward to as a kid, after all, even though he was positive it was different from the holiday experience the other children at his school lived through at the time. Mark just hoped that with his new promotion…well, things would be better. He would surely be able to get his daughter something in _addition_ to what she was hoping for, as well as getting something nice for his friend. It was the first time in six years he was Christmas shopping for someone besides his daughter…part of him could hardly believe it. If someone had asked him at the beginning of the year what he would be doing for Christmas…the man would have just assumed the same as usual. And, if someone had told him he would be spending Christmas with his best friend after receiving a promotion…Mark wouldn’t have believed it.

Mark could only hope that the following year would be a repetition of the current one…that despite Ethan not working for him anymore, the young man would still be able to come over for Christmas. After all, it seemed as if the two of them had been stuck in similar boats. The only person the older man spent the holidays with was his daughter…and the younger didn’t even spend it with anyone at all. It was a win for both of them, being able to spend the holidays together. The man just hoped that Ethan knew he wasn’t required to get him anything; the fact that he watched Charlotte all day for him was more than enough of a gift; besides, he hardly needed anything anyway.

“Um,” Charlotte returned, pursing her lips as she walked and paused thoughtfully. A stuffed animal, the man presumed, or possibly a doll. That was the usual item on the list, although Mark never understood what a child could do once with a stuffed animal once they reached five of them. At that point, it must just become some sort of collection instead of toys you would regularly play with. The older man didn’t question it, of course. If his daughter wanted a stuffed animal, he would sure as hell get her a stuffed animal. Anything to make her smile, Mark realized, was worth doing. “Uh…a charm,” she decided. Mark cocked his eyebrow as he glanced down at her while he walked. “A pretty charm. Like, a puppy charm. For my bracelet.” The man smiled in understanding. His daughter was still collecting charms for the charm bracelet her mother had bought her. It was something that he couldn’t help but find adorable. It was like a little mission to Charlotte, the man had realized. Being able to get as many charms as she could. The young girl only had a few on the bracelet, but it was enough to obviously keep her content with the number. 

“Well,” Mark stated in return, clearing his throat and smiling playfully. “I think that can _easily_ be arranged.” His daughter smiled up at him with excitement, obviously thrilled by the confirmation. What she wanted was surprisingly easy to get. After all, it wasn’t like it was expensive. Mark was grateful for that, of course. Not that he wouldn’t have been willing to spend more on her, because he absolutely would have without a second thought…but it sure did make things simpler. “What about you, Ethan?” Mark continued finally, glancing over to his friend and noticing as the young man’s eyes were pulled away from Charlotte. “Have you finally decided what you want for Christmas?”

“I thought I told you that I didn’t want anything,” Ethan mentioned in defiance, although a shy smile managed to make its way onto his face.

“And I thought I said I would be getting you a Christmas present whether you like it or not,” the older man returned, a familiar shit-eating grin on his face as they walked together. “Believe me, Ethan, I’m getting you a Christmas gift. So, either I go off of wild luck and ending up with the very common concept that I _don’t_ end up getting anything you like…or you swallow your pride and just tell me if there’s anything you want in particular. Socks? A hat? Ice-skates?” The man listed off items aimlessly, watching as his friend simply gave a good-natured roll of his eyes in return. “Well, what’s that supposed to mean?” Mark teased.

“It means that you’re _impossible_ ,” the young man informed, a reserved smile following.

“How so?”

“Well, I already told you that I didn’t want anything,” Ethan expanded, faltering slightly before he continued. “It’s really nice and all, but you already helped me with so much already. I don’t _need_ a Christmas gift, and if I don’t need it then what’s the point?” Mark opened his mouth to say something, but the young man was quick to interject. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s really nice of you and everything, but I just couldn’t accept anything from you. Not after all you’ve done and everything.” The older man peered at him, waiting to see if his friend was finished talking.

“Well, nobody _needs_ a Christmas gift,” Mark mentioned, shrugging his free shoulder as he continued to hold his daughter's hand, “but it’s just a nice thing to do. You know, like…a friendly gesture. I know that I’ve done stuff for you, but it hardly stacks up compared to the fact that you watch Charlotte _every day_ , and you’ve been doing that for the past four months. I might not have known you in daycare, but I’m sure you were working just as hard as you are now. Besides, I’ll finally be able to _afford_ getting someone else a present…and I’m not just gonna let that go to waste. Either you tell me what you want for Christmas, or you’re gonna end up getting something completely and entirely random, and you won’t have any idea what you’re gonna do with it, all while you have to pretend to like it because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you don’t like the gift. Just _pretend_ you do, and you have to force that smile and say something along the lines of ‘Wait, this is so nice, thank you’, and act like you’re completely surprised.” Ethan’s eyes flickered with dull amusement. “Surely that’s much harder than just telling me straight up what you want, and me going out to get it for you.”

“Alright, how about this,” the young man prompted. “I’ll tell you what I want for Christmas if _you_ tell _me_ what you want for Christmas. Then it’s fair.”

“Well, I don’t want anything for Christmas,” the older insisted.

“You can’t ask me what I want for Christmas if you don’t even want anything yourself,” Ethan giggled, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “That would make you a hypocrite.”

“I already have everything I need,” Mark exclaimed, that shit-eating grin on his face.

“So do I, then.”

The older man pursed his lips, allowing himself to think for a few seconds. “Alright,” he continued finally, clearing his throat. They were nearing the park. “I want a new tie for Christmas. Preferably a blue one, because it matches my suits. A dark blue, not a light blue, because it’s respectable.” The man returned his attention to his friend, stifling his laughter as Ethan nodded slowly, his eyes glazed over with such focus, as if he was taking a mental note of everything he had heard. “Maybe a new pair of socks, too. Business socks, if that’s even a thing. Either plain or simple stripes.” Ethan nodded again. “Now,” Mark started again, “what do you want for Christmas?”

“Well, I didn’t think you were actually gonna respond,” Ethan admitted. “I don’t really have any _idea_ what I want.” Mark let out a soft huff of good-natured laughter, rolling his eyes simply. “Okay, okay, I know what I want,” he said finally.

“And what’s that?”

“I want an Official Red Ryder, carbine action, 200-shot, range model air rifle, with a compass in the stock and this thing that tells time,” Ethan uttered, stifling his own laughter before he was bursting out in hysterics the next second. Mark couldn’t help but roll his eyes again, reaching over to punch his friend in the shoulder. “I promise I won’t shoot my eye out!” Charlotte giggled.

“You’re an idiot,” Mark insisted, although there was a visible grin on his face. 

“But I’m your idiot, aren’t I?” Ethan questioned, a playful innocence flickering in his eye, enough to make Mark’s heart raise up into his throat. It was just the way that he phrased it…the way that it rolled so naturally off of his tongue, as if he didn’t give it any second thought…and it was just the way the young man said ‘your’. As if Ethan was _his_. It was enough to make him shudder, Mark knew that well enough, but he regained his composure the next second because faltering would only make him look like an idiot, and that wasn’t what he wanted. It was a friendly question…nothing more to it. The fact that the older man dared to compare it to anything else apart from platonic was his own doing, and he wasn’t going to sweep his friend into that mess. So, instead, Mark allowed himself to take another breath, just because he felt as if he would hyperventilate or pass out if he didn’t. It really was crazy how all the young man had to do was utter a sentence for the older to be practically tripping over himself. God, if only Ethan knew.

“Yeah,” Mark replied finally, a simple gaze meeting Ethan’s. “You’re my idiot.” The younger man grinned in return, treating it like a compliment as they continued walking. The older man glanced up, smiling to himself when he realized they were almost at the park, for he could see it in the distance. It really had been a while, although Mark didn’t like to admit it. Hopefully, he would be able to go with his daughter more often, though…at least, he would promise himself that. It was the least he could do, after all…take his daughter to the park. “Look, Charlotte, we’re almost there,” Mark mentioned, glancing down at the young girl and watching her smile with delight. It was one of the best sights in the world, the man realized; being able to see his daughter smile. “What do you think you’re gonna wanna go on first?” He continued.

“Uh…” the young girl returned, her voice trailing off unknowing as she glanced over to Ethan. The young man met her gaze, shrugging his shoulders as if to say that it was her decision what they decided to do. “Um…swings,” Charlotte decided, a proud smile on her face as she redirected her attention to her father again. “You can swing too.”

“I can swing too?” Mark chuckled.

“Uh-huh,” she confirmed lightly, her voice awfully chipper. The man wore a sympathetic smile as he squeezed her in, drawing in a dramatic breath.

“I’m afraid my swinging days are over, kiddo,” the man admitted to his daughter, watching how she cocked her head slightly in return, her hair falling further down her shoulder. Mark smiled breathlessly. “I know,” he continued. “This might come as a surprise to you, but not a lot of adults go on the swing anymore. It’s a child’s right of passage, everybody knows that.” He paused. “Did you know that?” 

Charlotte shook her head hesitantly.

“Well, I think that’s a bunch of bull,” Ethan giggled. Mark looked to him, a mock expression of offense plastered on his face. “I go on the swings with her all the time, and so far no unearthly being has come to smite me, so…suck on that.” The older man simpered, rolling his eyes. “ _So_ , Mr. Fischbach, I think that the only thing _you’re_ going to be doing at the playground is swinging with us, because you’re never too old to have fun. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re _old_.” 

“Careful,” the older man returned.

The younger giggled softly. “Okay, okay, but my point still stands,” he insisted.

“ _Perhaps_.”

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun,” the brunette urged, a playful wisp flickering in his eyes, along with a suggestion of something else, as he sported a wide smile. “There are enough swings for all of us, I can promise you that, so it’s not like you’re gonna be some martyr giving one up for us. When was the last time, and be honest with me, that you _actually_ went on a swing? And just watching Charlotte go on the swings by herself _doesn’t_ count, by the way.’

Mark pursed his lips. “I dunno,” he admitted, thinking about it for a few seconds. Ethan had hit the nail right on the head…all he usually did when he took Charlotte to the park was _watch her_ …that was where the line was really drawn in the sand. It wasn’t like he hated the thought of playing with her, but he wasn’t exactly the right size to be running around on a playground built for children. The swings had enough room, sure…the man supposed the thought had just never crossed his mind. “I must’ve been in middle school or something. I really can’t remember.” Ethan’s eyes widened, almost as if he was surprised. “Oh come on, do I look like the kind of person who goes on a swing during his free time?”

“No,” the young man admitted, “but _middle school_? Dude, you’ve got to _live a little_!”

“I do live a little,” Mark returned. “I live a lot. I just don’t happen to _live_ by going on the swings.” He gave a half-smile, thinking it over for a few seconds. “I dunno, _maybe_ I’ll go on the swings. I’ll see if my mood changes from here to the park.”

“We’re basically in the park,” Ethan complained.

“Well, my mood hasn’t changed,” the man insisted, a simple expression as if to say it was out of his control. 

“You’re impossible,” the young man mentioned, although he gave a shy smile. Ethan glanced down at Charlotte now that they had reached the outskirts of the park. “Well, how about it, Charlotte, you ready to go over to the swings?” Mark couldn’t help but smile as the young girl let go of both of their hands, nodding eagerly. 

“Stay close to one of us, okay?” Mark reminded his daughter. She glanced up at him, nodding in agreement. The young girl knew well enough not to wander off, although she hadn’t known that as well when she was younger. One of the first times the man had brought her to the park, after Kaitlyn had already left, he ended up losing her. It wasn’t like he had intentionally gone out of his way to not look at her…Mark had simply looked down at his phone for a second to reply to an email his colleague had sent him, and only for a second…but the next second, she hadn’t been there. God, it had been enough to make the man throw up, that was for sure, even if he did eventually find that she had just wandered off toward the swings. The man didn’t know what he would have done if anything had happened to her though…he honestly hadn’t known if he would be able to live with himself. The solid minute where he had found himself unable to find Charlotte had been practically intolerable; after all, it seemed like everything had finally started caving in. At that point, life had been pretty shitty for him, and part of him almost wouldn’t have been surprised if the last good thing in his life was taken away from him…Mark didn’t know if he would have been able to go on another day without her, if he had to be completely honest. Needless to say, Mark had found himself only hugging his daughter as tight as he could once he had found her, much to her confusion because she didn’t understand the severity of walking off without notifying him first.

“I will,” Charlotte reminded him. Although the day hadn’t been that scary for her, since she had only had the thought of going on the swings on her mind, Mark knew she understood why it had been terrifying for him. At least, to some extent she knew. Nevertheless, the young girl started to make her way toward the swings. Mark went to follow after her, but Ethan quickly grabbed his wrist, holding him behind for a few seconds. The older man faltered, his gaze wavering from his daughter to his friend and then back to his daughter. Finally, after she made it to the swings, he looked back to Ethan, sucking in a heavy breath as he gave a comforting, reassuring smile.

“Look, if you need to take a business call or anything while we’re here, or something like that,” the young man promised him, “I’ll keep an eye on her. Just thought I’d tell you.” Mark wore a watery smile in return.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“Don’t mention it,” Ethan returned. He paused, glancing back over to the swings, a spirited grin growing on his face as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Alright, how about this, Mr. _I don’t know how to have fun_ …I race you to the swings?” He looked back to Mark. “You don’t have to go on them or anything, since I bet you’re not good at it anyway, but the least you can do is race me over. How does that sound?”

Mark paused.

“I would be down for that,” he mentioned. Ethan smiled. 

“If I win…” the younger man prompted, pursing his lips as his voice trailed off, almost as if he was thinking of the perfect punishment. Mark cocked his eyebrow, shoving his hands in his pockets as he waited for the suggestion. Ethan’s eyes lit up. “You have to go on the swings, without complaint, and have fun.” The older man choked down a scoff. His friend proposed it as if it was one of the most difficult tasks in the world. He nodded his head nonetheless, of course.

“And if I win?” Mark questioned.

“If you win?” Ethan laughed, a mock expression of humor. “Well, I dunno, Mark, I guess that never really crossed my mind. I never even considered that a _possibility_ , you’re gonna have to give me a second. That’s a tough one…we’re speaking theoretically, of course? Because I’m doing the math, Mark, and this doesn’t look like it’s gonna be possible. Maybe we should call NASA so they can give us the probabilities.” Mark rolled his eyes, chuckling softly. “Alright, alright, in all seriousness. If you win…” his voice trailed off again as he thought, although seriously this time. “If you win,” he repeated, “I’ll tell you what I want for Christmas. Does that sound like a deal?”

Mark’s eyes lit up. “That sounds like more than a deal,” he insisted.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

The older man paused, gesturing his head over to the swings. “Should I do a count-down?” He questioned. “Just so you can give yourself a few seconds and everything, I know you’re probably not ready. If you were as skilled as _I am_ though, maybe we could start right away. I’ll give you a second thought, give you some time to fix your laces and stretch a little bit.”

“Wow, trash-talking the shit-talker,” Ethan scoffed. “Bold move.”

“You know me,” Mark joked, his eyes flickering as he smiled at his friend. The young man smiled back, his gaze faltering from his eyes to his lips, and then back down and up again, almost as if it was against his better judgment. The older man cleared his throat quickly, glancing back to the swings. “So, how about it, Eth?” He questioned. “You ready?”

“I was born ready,” the man returned.

“Sure thing,” Mark scoffed. He paused. “Three…”

“Two…”

“One…”

Ethan took off.

“I didn’t say ‘go’, dumbass!” The older man shouted after him, a wide smile on his face as he raced after him the next second. He couldn’t help but laugh as he rushed after him, Ethan obviously having one of the most unfair advantages in human history, which Mark wouldn’t just let slide. All he could think about was the rush of adrenaline completely overtaking him, making him feel numb and _alive_ simultaneously. This was really more than he could have ever imagined…more than he could have ever expected after making a friend. Why, Mark had never met anyone like Ethan before. If he had been questioned at the beginning of the year who he would most likely be racing across a children’s playground with, only with full intentions of going on a swing-set…the man wouldn’t have known how to answer. All he had known before meeting the younger man was being apprehensive toward practically everything, especially things regarding his job and his daughter…but, now that he found himself being in the company of Ethan, all of that anxiousness he had bottled up inside of him for six years was being let out gradually. Sorrow was replaced with excitement, dread was replaced with hope, and loneliness was…well, just the feeling he felt whenever he was around Ethan. That wonderful, yet heart-aching, burning sensation from his temples to his ankles whenever he was in the mere _presence_ of the young man was a feeling that he had become almost desensitized to. Being able to wake up and know that if he decided to call Ethan, the young man would answer…that be more than he could have ever wished for. More than he could have ever _dreamed_ of. Just knowing that someone was there for him…someone who _wanted_ to be there for him…it was amazing. It was one of the best feelings in the world.

And just being able to race after him, even though he knew well enough that Ethan had cheated, after all, who starts running before someone says ‘go’…it was almost surreal. It was something so trivial, something that someone walking by could glance over without a second thought, but to Mark, it was absolutely everything. He wouldn’t exchange this feeling for anything in the world. Just the feeling of the grass underneath his shoes as he ran, something else the man hadn’t done in forever. Mark had never been given a reason to _truly_ run, so he had never gone out of his way to do it. This, though…being able got chase after Ethan for the sake of some insignificant wager they had made between themselves…it was perfect. Mark’s heart pounding in his chest, epinephrine in his veins as he felt as if he could do anything he was challenged, and just a smile plastered on his face, because even though Ethan had gone early, he could hardly give two shits. Sure, he would play it up for jokes, but the man felt as if he was on top of the world, even if it was just the two of them racing through a playground. And it was just the _feeling_ …God, Mark had never felt like this before with anyone. There wasn’t a single other person in the world, apart from his daughter, who he would do this with. Just Ethan… _only_ Ethan.

Ethan practically burst into laughter as he flopped onto the swing, his arms dangling across the other side as his feet dragged against the ground, an elaborate attempt to show off the fact that he had made it their first…despite his advantage. Mark stifled his laughter, leaning his hand up against one of the support poles of the swing-set as he watched his friend straighten up, leaning back proudly in his chair as he continued giggling. “Alrighty, mister,” the man stated proudly, the words being enough to make Mark faint right then and there, if it weren’t for the fact he was holding onto the pole. “I got here first, and I would like to assume that you’re a man of your word. _So_ …” his voice trailed off as he gestured his hand to the swing beside him, that shit-eating grin of his not yet leaving. “I don’t believe this seat is taken.”

“Absolutely not,” Mark chuckled, crossing his arms loosely across his chest. The young man widened his eyes, almost as if he was surprised by the statement. “Okay, first of all, who takes off before the other person says ‘go’? You just don’t do that. That’s cheating. You _cheated_.” Ethan gave a good-natured roll of his eyes.

“You never said anything about me having to wait for you to say it,” the younger man claimed in defense, almost as if that would help his case. Mark opened his mouth to rebut, but Ethan continued. “Come on, you big dummy, get on the swing. It’s not gonna bite.” He paused, thinking. “Don’t get your skin pinched in the chains though, that’s the worst feeling in the world. Not even lying. Right, Char?” Ethan glanced over to Charlotte, who giggled softly in return, kicking her legs as she swung back and forth. She nodded her head in mere agreement, the young man turning back to face his friend. “That’s my only word of advice.”

“I think that everybody knows you’re supposed to wait until the person says ‘go’ before you _go_ ,” Mark insisted, not dropping the subject matter.

“Well, you should have put that in the rule book, because I obviously wasn’t invited to the meeting where everyone made that the norm,” Ethan joked. He swung back and forth ever so slightly, his sneakers dragging along in the dust that was laid underneath the swing-set, just enough so he was practically just swaying. “Now _come on_ , don’t make me ask you again. Get on the swing. Live a little bit.”

“If you had played fair, I would have had your Christmas list by now,” the man teased in retaliation. Ethan rolled his eyes dramatically, although a smile peeked through. “Come on, give me one thing. Just _one_ thing, it’s the least you can do after cheating.” He paused, grinning. “Something _besides_ a Red Ryder BB-gun.”

“I’m stumped,” Ethan joked.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Never been more serious a day in my life,” the young man insisted, biting his lip to conceal his smile. Mark leaned against the pole, cocking his eyebrow. “How come you wanna know so bad?” He continued, a questioning flicker looming in his gaze. “I mean, come on, I’m _saving_ you money. You don’t have to waste anything you have on me, doesn’t that make you…I dunno _…relieved_?”

“Mm, I would rather spend money on _you_ then save it up,” Mark mentioned.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Never been more serious a day in my life,” the man repeated, a cocky grin plastered on his face. “You already know what I want…I want to know what you want. Exchanging gifts is part of the process of being friends, Eth. You’re _robbing me_ of my friendship experience. I’ve never really done this before. This is supposed to be a _learning_ experience.” He paused. “If you tell me something from your Christmas list, I’ll get on the swing. And that’s a promise. A promise is a promise, and you can’t break it, but I think you already know that. So how does that sound?” Ethan scoffed a little bit, straightening up in his seat.

“The original deal was that if I got to the swing-set first, which I did,” the young man explained, “then you would get on the swing. As I said, I got here first. There was none of this compromising in the arrangement.” Mark grinned, continuing to catch his breath. He felt as if he could do fucking _anything_. Adrenaline was weird like that, he supposed. “So I think you’re gonna _sit on the swing_ , and you’re gonna _like it_.”

“Is that a threat?” The older man teased, taking a step over to the younger. Ethan smiled a bit, pursing his lips before shrugging his shoulders. “Because, I dunno, Eth. It _sounded_ like you threatened me.” He hummed, now finding himself standing in front of his friend’s swing, his heart still pumping…but this time for a different reason. The young man looked up at him, sucking in a heavy breath as they just stared at each other. Mark shifted, his gaze shifting to Ethan’s lips. God… _fuck_. He couldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be doing this. The older man averted his attention back to his friend’s eyes, noticing how they flickered with mere intrigue and a slight hint of fervor that the man just couldn’t explain. Ethan straightened up again…his hands were trembling as they gripped the chains of the swing tighter. Mark couldn’t even explain the way his stomach had tied itself into a knot.

“I promise it wasn’t a threat…” Ethan whispered, a hitched breath following as he cleared his throat. “Are you gonna swing or not, dummy?”

Mark straightened up a bit, regaining his composure. He could feel the adrenaline seemingly seeping out of his system, like a sponge being squeezed of moisture. “Christmas item first,” he insisted, although he shifted a bit closer to the swing as if to prove that he meant business. Ethan cocked his eyebrow, pursing his lips as if he was still deciding. “It doesn’t have to be anything big…just something I can go off of. Maybe even a vague idea of what you want.”

Ethan smiled.

“I want a coffee mug,” he decided. 

Mark hummed softly, slowly nodding his head as he took in the information. “Just a coffee cup?” He questioned. “You don’t want me to get you some k-cups? New coffee maker? Maybe more than _one_ coffee cup?” Ethan rolled his eyes.

“ _You_ asked for a tie and socks,” the young man reminded him. “I’d say we’re even.”

“Fair enough,” Mark replied, shrugging his shoulders. He turned around carefully, sitting down on the swing. He glanced at his friend, noticing how his eyes lit up with excitement and amusement. “I know, I know, I’m on a swing. Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The older man gave a slight kick of his legs, smiling to himself. It had been a while since Mark had done this, but it was sort of like riding a bike. No one ever _truly_ forgot how to swing on their own without someone pushing them. “I seriously can’t remember the last time I did this,” the man admitted, glancing over to his friend. Ethan cocked an eyebrow, almost as if he was surprised.

“I did this a few days ago,” Ethan retorted.

“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count,” Mark insisted, laughing softly as he tried to speak, but only ended up giggling again. God, being genuinely happy was just so… _natural_ around Ethan. He didn’t have to force anything. The two of them could be having a normal conversation one second, and the next they could both be in a fit of hysterics over the stupidest thing that had been brought up. “That’s different. When’s the last time _before_ you started taking Charlotte to the park that you went on the swings? You’re getting _paid_ to take my daughter to the park, this doesn’t count if you’re getting paid.” Ethan giggled, pursing his lips as he allowed himself to think.

“I guess not since I was in middle school,” Ethan admitted.

“Aha!” Mark insisted, as if he had caught a culprit.

“Believe me, I would have done it in high school,” the younger man continued in explanation, clearing his throat as he spoke, “but you know how high schoolers are. They think that everyone else is judging them, even though in reality nobody _cares_ what you’re doing or how you decide to have fun. So, as much as I wanted to be able to go to a playground after school, I always thought that people would judge me or think that I was weird or something. So I just didn’t go, even though that would have been the coolest thing ever. If I had allowed myself to go on _swings_ when I was in high school, I can guarantee that the entire experience would have sucked a _whole_ lot less. Still woulda sucked, cause high school sucks, but it would have sucked less.” Mark smiled, giving a nod of understanding. “Did high school suck for you?”

“High school sucks for everyone.”

“On a scale of one to ten,” the brunette prompted.

Mark hummed for a few seconds. “Eight,” he decided. The man glanced over at his friend, allowing himself to read the young man’s facial expression just a few seconds before he started giggling. “Do you find my pain amusing?” The older man questioned, although he couldn’t help but grin. God, Mark was absolutely obsessed with his laughter. So effortlessly carefree…there really wasn’t any other way to put it. So, despite himself, he let out a soft-huff of laughter, followed by a roll of his eyes as he glanced over to the rest of the park.

Mark could remember when he took Charlotte to the playground more often…it had been when she was younger, but he still appreciated it nonetheless. Being able to chase her underneath the bridges and around the slides had always been the best part of his day…he was glad he would be able to pick it back up again. After putting everything on hold for so long, it was wonderful being able to get back into the swing of things. Mark flinched slightly when he felt something lightly brushing against his hand. The man glanced over, straightening up in the thing as he saw Ethan reaching over.

“I heard it’s more fun to swing when you’re holding hands with the other person,” he admitted shyly, almost as if he was asking for permission, his finger brushing gently against the palm of Mark’s hand. “That way, if someone swings too fast, the other person gets dragged off of their swing…and I think that would be kinda fun.” The older man swallowed thickly, allowing himself to fix his attention down at their hands. Slowly, without saying another word, he allowed himself to reach over, their fingers intertwining. The man sucked in a silent breath, trying not to make it painfully obvious that his heart had practically exploded on this inside. Mark looked up at his friend sheepishly, noticing how he too had his attention focused on their hands…simply just holding the other’s. He gave Ethan’s hand a small squeeze, being comforted by the feeling of the man’s fingers against his, almost familiarizing himself with the sensation of their palms just barely bushing against the other. For a few seconds, his friend’s hand quivered against his; the breeze was strong, he supposed. However, after a few seconds, the two of them began swinging comfortably, their eyes fixed on the playground instead of each other. Mark didn’t think he had the strength to honestly glance over.

They did it as if it was nothing. Do friends hold hands? Mark hardly even knew…all of this was unfamiliar for him. Not just the holding hands part, but the _entire_ friendship experience. He didn’t know what was platonic and what was…well, call it what you want… _not_ platonic. Mark couldn’t be one hundred percent certain, but part of him liked to believe that this was certainly toeing the dividing line, just ever so slightly. The man could feel his heart thumping in his chest as they just remained like that, so _unapologetically_. The older man felt as if he was going to hyperventilate. How was this so easy for Ethan? The young brunette _certainly_ must have viewed this as only a friendly action, it was the only explanation as to how he was to fucking _calm_. It was painfully unfair, Mark supposed, but he didn’t say anything. What was there to say? 

God, Mark wanted this feeling to last forever…to last for _eternity_. Just the comfortable notion of Ethan’s hand placed gently in his, a comfortable silence filling the air and running through their veins as they were at peace with each other…at peace with whatever friendship they had managed to create for themselves. Slowly, though, he found the both of them coming to a stop, although their hands didn’t separate from each other. It was as if they had almost accepted the gesture as normal. The older man peeked at the younger out of the corner of his eye, noticing how Ethan stared off into the distance almost longingly. Mark could only wish during that moment that the rush of adrenaline that had once surged through him so fiercely would return, even if it was just for a few seconds. He wished it would cloud over his thoughts, common-sense, and better judgment…just so he could have the chance to lean over. Just so he could hold Ethan’s face gently in his hands and kiss him. Softly…slowly…God, he would kiss him hungrily for all he cared, he just wanted the guts to do it. Yet, he was withdrawn. Everything could be his for the taking, all Mark needed to do was lean over and _take it_. But he couldn’t. That would be risking everything. The man wasn’t sure there would be a moment in time where he would ever be able to overcome the fact that attempting to start something new with Ethan, although it may appear to be better, might only result in their friendship being terminated. That wasn’t anything Mark wanted.

So, Mark sat there, allowing his hand to drop before he started swinging again. This was good…this was okay. This was what the man was supposed to crave and appreciate. Mark had longed for the feeling of a friend behind him for the better parts of his life…to be able to joke with someone, or be able to trust them with anything. The older man had finally found that person…he had finally found someone he could stay up late at night with, talking about absolutely nothing of importance over the phone and just wasting the hours away when they should have been sleeping. This was everything he had ever wanted, all being laid out in front of him. After all, what more did Mark need than a stable friendship to pair with the relationship he shared with his daughter, along with his promotion. It was seemingly the perfect life to most, Mark could only assume. This was it…this was the dream. 

Why did Mark want more?

∞§—————§∞

Mark hummed softly, leaned back against the couch with his phone close in his grip, his eyes fixed down on the screen as he continued to scroll through his emails. Unsurprisingly, taking a break at the park hadn’t exactly paused time itself, or any of the other emails and messages that flooded in, but he supposed that would be part of it. Taking breaks would be riskier when there were things to do, Mark realized, although that wouldn’t exactly stop him from doing it. After all, he had Sunday. There was more than enough time in the day for it to be spent on working, he knew that well enough. However, this wouldn’t mean that it would overlap with his time for Charlotte. The older man had already started afresh by tucking in his daughter a mere few minutes ago, Ethan going in afterward to read her _yet_ another stored despite the one Mark had already finished for her. The older man couldn’t help but smile, though. He absolutely adored the fact that Ethan and Charlotte got along so well. Almost as if it was meant to be or something.

That was one of the most painful parts of it, though, he supposed… _knowing_ that Ethan was so perfect. Knowing that this man, his _best friend_ , was seemingly the one he had been searching for his entire life to give his heart to…wasn’t someone he could have. Mark had said it too many times before, he couldn’t date his friend. Not even that, he couldn’t date his daughter’s babysitter. That would change Ethan and Charlotte’s entire relationship, the older man knew that well enough, and he would never just want to toss that onto his friend. That was assuming the man would even be _interested_ in the thought of dating him. After all, it didn’t even seem plausible. Things were fine as they were, they didn’t need to be touched or altered, even if it was just in the slightest. Why kiss Ethan when he could hug Ethan? Why cuddle with him when he could sit beside him in comfortable silence and know that he didn’t have to feel anxious about anything? But God, then he remembered. It was just the feeling he had been starved of for so long now…that certain type of affection he had hardly been able to experience, the one he wanted back to desperately…the one Kaitlyn had given and taken from him during the span of their relationship.

It was the fact that Ethan was so perfect that frustrated him beyond repair…the fact that he was so comfortable around children, especially Charlotte. The fact that he was so kind to Mark, and so understanding of their situation that they had been stuck in the same loophole with for nearly _six years._ Ethan was the change…Ethan was the entire reason every day didn’t drag on to be the same tedious task of dropping his daughter off at daycare during the morning, picking her up in the evening, having dinner, and then tucking her in. It was a routine that Mark had assumed well enough, but he had always wanted more than that. He had always wanted to regain the adoration of a relationship he hadn’t felt in so long. Being able to wake up to someone beside him had once been so familiar…there had once been a moment in his life where waking up alone was seemingly unnatural. Yet, he had become accustomed to it in the span of a month. Mark could hardly remember what it felt like to kiss someone, whether it be against their lips or down their neck…he couldn’t remember how it felt to have someone’s temple pressed gently against his chest, him and his lover swaying together to music they could hear playing outside through an open window. It pained him to say that he had forgotten…forgotten about everything. Everything that Mark had once cherished about being in a relationship had been forcefully taken from him the day Kaitlyn left, and the only remnants he could relive were first dates…being able to look someone in the eye across a dinner table and just smile as they listed off trivial facts about themselves.

Mark wanted that back. He wanted all of it back, and he wanted it to start fresh with Ethan. The man knew it was more than just an act of desperation…he _really_ wanted this. More than he could even fathom, it was almost unnatural of him. For six years, the man had never idolized someone as such…he had never gone out of his way to think of them in such a light, yet here he was. Mark could hardly comprehend how he had allowed his feelings to get to the point where he wanted to take action on them, but part of him wished he had been able to swallow them down the first day they had appeared, because he supposed life would have been a whole lot easier if he was in control of it. Like this, it felt as if he was just being dragged through life as his emotions decided to lead the way. That wasn’t what Mark needed…what he needed was the fucking confidence, but he knew well enough he wouldn’t be getting it anytime soon. Maybe one day though…and hopefully before the nine months were up. Having to seek his best friend out for the sole purpose of confessing everything he had kept bottled up for so long, when he should have just let it all out, wouldn’t be the most humiliating thing…but it certainly wouldn’t be the least.

Mark’s knee bounced as he continued looking through his emails, mentally plotting out everything he would be doing during the week. Calls, meetings, emails he would have to eventually reply to, schedules that would have to be filled, people who would have to be informed, offices that would have to be moved into as well as cubicles that needed to be unpacked, all followed by the conference Mark would be having with his other colleagues…sort of like an introduction. Needless to say, he was practically slammed with work for the next two weeks. Of course, that wouldn’t prevent him from keeping up with his relationships at home. He wouldn’t allow it. The older man had finally promised himself that if anything ever got in the way of his time with Charlotte, he wouldn’t do it. She would always come first. Mark didn’t care if he had to fucking _quit_ his job because of it…his daughter came first, and he hoped that everyone he worked with would be accepting of it. The man had heard too many times through work gossip that one of his co-workers had worked overtime and ended up missing an important event where their child was featured, like their dance recital or their baseball game. Something cliche, but always heartbreaking nonetheless.

The faint sound of someone singing drifted carefully into the room. Mark straightened up, perking to attention to take in his surroundings as he reluctantly rested his phone aside. It was a soft voice…comforting. Hushed, almost as if they were singing in a whisper, although it got slightly louder the next second. The older man cleared his throat, swallowing thickly as he glanced over his shoulder at the wall dividing the living room and Charlotte’s bedroom. It was coming from in there. The man paused, allowing himself to think logically about it for a few seconds before he finally realized. The singing was coming from Ethan. It was the only thing that made sense. Mark sat there for a few more seconds, shifting as he listened to his friend just… _sing_ , almost as if Charlotte was the only one in the house who could hear him. The older man couldn’t help but smile as he sat on the couch for a few more seconds, sighing contently and leaning his head back against the wall. Fuck, Ethan really was perfect he supposed. This was just the icing on the cake…the _cherry on top_. Of _course_ he could sing. The fact that Mark was even surprised baffled him. If anything, he felt as if he would have been surprised is his friend evidently _couldn’t_ sing. Surely that would have been more of a shock, considering the fact that it seemed he was capable of practically everything. What _couldn’t_ he do was the real question.

Mark listened to the muffled sound through the wall for a few more seconds before he eventually stood up, curiosity finally taking the best of him. He knew he should be getting back to work, but those things could wait. They weren’t as important. So, despite his better judgment, the older man pulled away from the couch, walking over carefully to the hallway. Sure enough, as soon as he entered, he could hear the singing from a different perspective. Still about as faint as it had been previously, although the voice didn’t sound as muffled due to Charlotte’s door being open. Mark hummed softly underneath his breath, getting swept up in the lyrics of the song Ethan was singing. Although he couldn’t quite make out what it was, his voice was hushed as he continued. It was obvious to the older man that the young girl was sleeping at this point, and that Ethan was only continuing for effect. Nevertheless, Mark drew closer, his fingertips brushing gently against the wall as he debated leaning into the doorway. However, after a few seconds of faltering and not quite making up his mind, the man decided to simply lean up against the wall of the hallway. He sank into himself slightly, a faint smile growing on his face when he realized the song Ethan was singing.

“… _you make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you…please don’t take my sunshine away_.”

Ethan’s voice was practically a murmuring whisper, but the man could make out the lyrics just the same, the words going straight to his own heart as he listened to him sing to his daughter. It was a gesture he never thought the younger man would make, but he loved it nonetheless. Mark found himself gently humming alone, his heart beating steadily. God, he loved Ethan’s voice. It was even better than his laugh, something the man had been certain the younger wouldn’t be able to beat. Sure enough, it was like Ethan had managed to beat his own world record.

“ _In all my dreams, dear, you seem to leave me. When I awake…my poor heart pains. So when you come back and make me happy…I’ll forgive you dear, I’ll take all the blame._ ”

Mark exhaled lightly, swaying carefully as he listened to his friend sing. For a few seconds, he allowed himself to comfortably close his eyes. He appreciated this feeling dearly.

“ _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy…when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you…_ ” the young man’s voice trailed off gently, being strung out in a comfortable manner, “ _…please don’t take my sunshine away_ …” 

Mark swallowed thickly, allowing himself to open his eyes as he stared at the wall across from him. There was an inaudible ‘goodnight, princess’ that followed, and the man could feel his heart melting inside of his chest. It was too perfect… _this_ was almost too perfect. He stood there simply, not even bothering to move back to the couch once he heard the sound of Ethan crossing Charlotte’s room to the door. He simply stood there, glancing over his left shoulder when he watched Ethan finally appear in the doorway. As Mark had almost expected, his friend flinched in return, his shoulders rising ever so slightly, his eyes going wide.

“Goddamnit, how many times are you gonna scare me!?” Ethan exclaimed, although playfully, as he reached over and punched his friend on the shoulder. The older man couldn’t help but smile as he watched his friend dramatically press his hand against his chest, almost as if he had a heart attack. “Holy shit, seriously dude, you can’t go around doing that. One of these days you’re gonna has to pay for my medical pills when I pass out of pure _fright_.” Mark chuckled softly, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m serious! I mean, I get it, it’s your apartment. Do whatever you want, I’m not judging…but don’t stand _directly outside_ the bedroom that you _know_ I’m in, because at this point you’re only making it _seem_ like you’re intentionally trying to scare me. Which, if you are, I will find out and I _will_ hurt you because it should be illegal for you to scare someone that bad.” Ethan sucked in a heavy breath, holding it in his chest for a few seconds before exhaling, almost as if he was sweeping the anxiousness out of him.

“I was listening to you sing,” Mark mentioned.

The young man looked at him shyly, a look of embarrassment plastered on his face before he glanced away. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he returned apologetically, almost as if it was something to be ashamed of. “Charlotte asked for me to sing her something, so I just sang the first thing that came to mind. It wasn’t that good or anything, but if you whisper something long enough you’ll get a child to fall asleep, so I guess it worked.” Ethan paused for a few seconds, biting his lip. “I didn’t…I didn’t disturb you while you were working or anything, did I?” He questioned, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Because, if I did…I’m super sorry. I really just meant for-”

“You were amazing,” the older man interjected. “I’ve never heard someone sing like you before.”

Ethan’s eyes widened from the compliment, a flushed expression overtaking him as he shifted again. “You don’t mean that…” he mentioned softly. However, Mark nodded his head again, more eager than the first. The young man paused. It was obvious he didn’t know what to say in return. “Well, maybe I can sing to Charlotte more often…”

“Maybe,” Mark mentioned.

Ethan smiled a bit, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I really should get going,” he returned, gesturing his head to the front door of the apartment. “Thank you for letting me stay the other night,” he continued gratefully. “I honestly didn’t wanna walk home alone, especially since it was so dark and cold out…you’re a really great friend.” He smiled softly. Mark nodded a bit, biting his lip. He didn’t want the young man to go…God, that was the last thing he wanted.

“Uh, it’s supposed to start raining in a few minutes,” Mark lied quickly, biting his lip as he shrugged his shoulders. Ethan cocked his eyebrow in return. “Like, fucking _pouring_ , dude. I dunno how far your apartment is from here, but I wouldn’t want for you to get caught in the rain or anything. I mean, you know how bad it can get sometimes. I’m not saying it’s flash flood warnings or anything, but you’re totally going to get drenched if you go outside. I’m not sure a jacket would help, I’m going to be completely honest. And, you know, it’s winter. I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or anything…” his voice trailed off as he cleared his throat. “Why don’t you stay another night?” He prompted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I really won’t mind or anything if you do. I just don’t want you to get sick; that’s the _last_ thing I want. Besides, if you stay, we can watch some television or something. You know, friend stuff. I’ll let you have the remote.” God, why the fuck did he seem so desperate? Nevertheless, Ethan paused.

“How bad is the rain supposed to be?” He questioned softly.

“Bad,” Mark insisted, giving a justified nod of his head. “That’s why I made sure we went to the park today, since I’m sure everything is going to be absolutely _soaked_ tomorrow. I mean, you’re free to walk home in the rain if you want, I don’t mind…but, if you do want to stay, we’ve still got the sofa-bed, not like it’s gone anywhere.” The older man paused again, not sure if his friend was believing anything that he was saying. “Does that sound like anything you’d be interested in?”

“Are you sure?” Ethan continued hesitantly. “I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

“Positive,” the older man returned.

“Okay…” the brunette breathed out, regaining his composure before nodding his head. “Okay…if you don’t mind.” Mark nodded again, turning on his heels to walk back got the living room. “Tomorrow, though, I promise that I’ll finally be out of your hair. I swear, if I knew it was going to be raining or something, I would have left earlier. I didn’t see anything in the forecast.” The older man nodded slowly, as if it was the craziest thing he had ever heard. “Two days in a row…Jesus, this weather.”

Mark smiled. “You can always stay for the whole weekend,” he offered. “I mean, think about it. Tomorrow’s gonna be Sunday. You might as well stay over until Monday.” He fell back onto the couch.

“I couldn’t possibly.”

“Why not?” Mark questioned.

“Well…” the young man breathed out, his voice trailing off as he allowed himself to fall back beside him. “I dunno, seems like a lot. I know you’re saying you’re fine with it, but I just can’t help but feel like I’m bothering you or getting in your way, even if you say I’m not. Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely being here, and I would love to stay another day, but I wouldn’t want to overstep my boundaries, do you get what I’m saying?” Mark nodded in understanding. “Alrighty, then…pass me the remote.” The older man pursed his lips, thinking for a few seconds before he eventually held it over his head in attempts of getting it as far away from his friend as he could. The young man obviously noticed this, scoffing playfully in return. “Well, that’s awfully mature of you,” he joked, carefully reaching over to get it. “You said I could have the remote!” He laughed.

“You’ll get it when you say you’ll stay the night tomorrow!” Mark laughed, holding it up higher as the young man sat up to reach for it. The older man straightened up in return, holding the remote with the tips of his fingers as it stood upright, the sensor pointed at the ceiling in attempts of keeping it as far away from Ethan, who was in a giggling fit of hysterics, as he could. 

“No fair!”

“Yes fair,” Mark insisted, grinning to himself as Ethan practically crawled over him in attempts of reaching it. The older man shifted his hand away, which only lead to the younger practically tackling him. Mark laughed heartily, only focusing on keeping the remote farther away from his friend in some stupid game of keep-away, something that he could have sworn only young children would play amongst themselves. Obviously, the borders had opened up. And, like most things, the man found himself almost taking it seriously, repositioning the controller as Ethan lunged for it. After a few seconds, however, it didn’t take Mark long to realize they were in a compromising situation. The older man had hidden the remote behind his back, which eventually had lead to Ethan straddling his lap to reach around and get it. However, it seemed as if the both of them had come to terms with their surroundings as they just sat there, one looking up at the other and the other looking down, their gaze locked…they were filled with both a state of shock and a sense of not knowing what they were supposed to do now. Mark swallowed thickly, his heart caught in his throat, bobbing unsteadily as his eyes couldn’t tear away from Ethan’s. The young man looked down at him just the same, his hands still resting on his friend’s shoulders. He shifted on his lap, but he didn’t pull himself off of him. 

Mark sucked in a heavy breath, his hands carefully snaking up to rest on his friend’s knees. Ethan’s breath hitched, his hands quivering on Mark’s shoulders slightly, but he didn’t move. The older man’s stomach was filled with a burning sensation as he just sat there, tilting his head back ever so slightly to look up at him. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and echoing in his ears. What was happening? _Why_ was it happening? Mark had forgotten all about the remote, something clouding over his better judgment as his hands moved further up his friend’s legs, landing on his thighs, feeling Ethan tighten his grip on his shoulders in return. For a few seconds, the older man allowed his attention to drop down to his lips, only to regain their original position as Ethan ran his hands down from his shoulders to his chest…not to push him away, though. Just to rest there. Mark sucked in a heavy breath. Why did this feel right? He could practically hear his friend’s staggering breathing patterns. Fuck, _please_. He could feel Ethan balling up his shirt into fists.

“Daddy?” Mark heard someone question. Ethan practically threw himself off of him, landing beside him. The older man straightened up, clearing his throat as he glanced over, surprised to see his daughter standing near the edge of the living room, obviously having just walked down the hall. “Whatcha doing?”

Mark was silent.

“Fighting for the remote,” Ethan returned quickly, reaching over and grabbing the remote out from behind Mark. The older man hardly cared anymore. “I got it though. See?” The young girl paused, slowly nodding her head. She still looked tired.

“Want me to tuck you in again, sweetie?” Mark questioned. He glanced at Ethan, noticing how the man was simply looking down at his hands. Goddamnit. Nevertheless, his daughter nodded his head, and he knew well enough he would have to do that…and somehow act like that hadn’t happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos + Comments appreciated because I love hearing from you
> 
> Love you always,  
> Simply


	33. Lay All Your Love on Me

Ethan sucked in a heavy breath, sighing contently afterward as he rolled onto his left side, feeling the pillow pressing lightly against his cheek. The sheet above him, along with the covers, draped over his waist and lower half as he shifted again. Despite knowing well enough that he should be getting up, the young man instead kept his eyes closed, blindly groping for the edge of the covers before tugging them back up to his shoulder, practically burrowing himself into the sheet below him as he allowed himself to soak in the warmth of the sofa-bed. It was just that wonderful feeling of sleeping that Ethan didn’t want to let go of…a peaceful rest with the world calm around him, despite the fact that he knew there were probably things to do. He didn’t know what time it was, since he hadn’t allowed himself to open his eyes, but he could only assume it was dark. After all, he couldn’t feel warm light against his face…it must have been the same time that it had been when he had been woken up the previous morning. Although, this time, Ethan had actually slept well. He didn’t know _how_ he had managed to get a wink of sleep, though, especially considering what had happened the previous night…how far things had _gone_ the previous night, everything so close in his grasp that had slipped away from his fingertips.

The young man didn’t even know how it had happened…how everything had gotten to that point. The last thing Ethan remembered before it was just laughing with his friend, Mark teasingly holding the remote over his head, just slightly out of his reach. The only way Ethan felt like grabbing for it was attempting to wrestle him, in a friendly way of course. The brunette had never wanted it to be more than that. At least, he hadn’t _intended_ it to be anything more. He had simply reached over, hardly thinking about anything else than the small friendly competition they had feuded between themselves, over something as stupid as a remote to top it all off….something so _trivial_. All the young man had needed to do was just tell his friend that he would stay over for the night, something that he had already had intentions of doing. Yet, Ethan had been prideful, a lump in his throat that he couldn’t just swallow down for the sake of easing up the tension between them. So, Ethan had persisted, giggling hysterically as he allowed himself to just stupidly argue with Mark, a mock fight starting between the two as he had lunged over, making grabby hands for the remote as the older man kept tout of reach time after time. Stretching his arm out, lifting himself off of the couch cushion ever so slightly to allow himself the extra height, both of them too busy laughing to put any actual effort into it. Their eyes bright with absurdity, crinkled with smiles they couldn’t quite shake.

It had been so painfully simple…it was obvious that neither o them had a care in the world as they just _laughed_ , muttering underneath their breath when Ethan was so close to grabbing it before it was swept to the side and out of his reach again. Ethan’s mind had practically been blank as he just reached back and forth, Mark’s hand moving too fast for his, but it didn’t matter. _Nothing_ mattered in that small fragment of time; the only thing that the young man needed was his friend’ company as he sat beside him. Ethan didn’t even want to watch anything in particular; he had no idea why he even wanted to get the remote in the first place. Perhaps just to spite him…to give him something to do? He really didn’t even know. It was impossibly childish, after all, and Ethan couldn’t even recall the last time he had _actually_ participated in a game of keep-away where people seemed to care. It was just him and Mark, the two of them sitting on the older man’s couch, side by side with nothing else to do but goof around constantly. It was wonderful. There was nothing to worry about, or be anxious about…there was no tension. Ethan couldn’t remember a point in his life where he hadn’t… _cared_ about anything. It was nice. Comfortable.

Of course, the young man should have known that something would happen. There was no way of predicting it, but he shouldn’t have expected anything to just remain the way that it was. Ethan didn’t know why he did it. The simple game that had been circling back and forth had been more than alright with the two of them just lunging back and forth, reaching and just standing up slightly, an occasional punch on the shoulder to follow. The brunette didn’t need to do what he did…yet, despite himself, Ethan had found himself beside his friend one second and straddling his lap the next. For a few seconds, the young man hadn’t really noticed. Sure, it was something that should have noticeable…but he had simply ignored it, attempting to reach behind Mark or where he had hid the remote, still laughing _hysterically_ because he was having the time of his life. But, just like before, one second everything had been completely normal…and the next second Ethan had his hands placed on his friend’s shoulder, noticing how his head tilted back ever so slightly to look at him. Ethan had simply been frozen like that for a few seconds, allowing himself to take in the severity of the somewhat compromising situation, feeling his friend shift carefully underneath him…not to knock him off, though, but to readjust Ethan’s weight on top of his. For a few seconds, the young man assumed Mark would just push him off again in attempts to continue hiding the remote, and the two of them would be on their way, almost as if nothing had ever happened. A second passed. Nothing. Mark had remained silent, both of them looking at each other like a deer in headlights, as if speaking would _kill them_.

Ethan had readjusted his weight again, a portion of him not wanting this to end. His heart had lodged its way in his throat, choking him… _suffocating him_. It prevented him from thinking straight, his mind clouded over with God knows what as he just sat there, allowing himself to slowly become comfortable with the position, even though he knew he shouldn’t be. The young man should have pulled himself off by now…he should have reached behind Mark and ripped the remote from his hands, smiling proudly and acting as if everything had been part of some elaborate plan in attempts to win it back. The brunette was positive that the older man wouldn’t have even second-guessed it…the two of them could have just sat together and watched television or a movie. Nothing _had_ to be complicated. But Ethan couldn’t look away…neither of them could. They were in a seemingly unbreakable state of shock, their eyes locked with each other to the point where Ethan could practically see right through him. There was an undertone of fear littered in his glazed over eyes…sort of like the light someone could see through a fogged-up window of a car. The young man didn’t know what was going on, but he hadn’t questioned it. Instead, he had kept his hands fixed on Mark’s shoulders, feeling them quiver against the fabric of his friend’s shirt. Trembling uncontrollably.

Ethan had sucked in a heavy breath when he felt the older man slowly repositioning his hands; instead of resting them behind his own back and holding the remote, he let the device go as he reached his hands forward, carefully placing them on the younger’s knees. The man’s heart had practically fluttered out of his chest, breathing softly because he wouldn’t dare to break the moment with words. It didn’t need sentences. All it had needed was quavering breaths matched with a steady, unblinking gaze. The man hadn’t known what was happening. All of this was foreign to him, there had never been a moment of his life where he had felt so… _numb_ , yet so alive, at the same time. The only thing the brunette could think about was his friend…was _Mark_. Ethan didn’t dare let anyone else cross his mind. It was as if they were the only two people in the world, living in perfect and content unison as they just _looked_ at each other, almost as if they were trying to read the other’s mind for answers that they wouldn’t receive. The younger man had watched how his friend’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, heavily and almost loudly. 

Within the next second, Mark’s hands had slowly snaked up to his thighs, the tips of his fingers finding the crease of his jeans, a small squeeze following. The young man found himself involuntarily gripping Mark’s shoulders a little tighter, exhaling the breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Was he the only one feeling this? The intense churning in his stomach, his heart feeling as if it would beat out of his chest if he didn’t steady his breathing, a burning pit in his side. Ethan watched as Mark’s eyes averted attention to his lips, and it was at this moment the young man yearned for one thing and one thing only…to kiss Mark. That was all he had wanted at that moment. To just lean forward and steal the breath right out of him. Ethan wanted nothing more than for his friend to whisper sweet nothings in his ear as he leaned close. He longed to feel the older man’s hands on the small of his back…to wrap his own arms loosely around Mark’s neck and just draw close; to feel the older man’s breath _scorching_ against his neck as he tilted his head back and just looked at the ceiling. That was more than he wanted. Ethan gently squeezed his friend’s shoulders again, rubbing slow circles and breathing softly as they looked at each other. The young man had sensed a hint of longing in his eyes. 

_What were they doing? w_ as the only thing Ethan had been able to ask himself. 

The young man had felt his hands slowly trailing down from Mark’s shoulders to his chest, sucking in a quivering breath, his breathing pattern unsteady. The man had assumed that would be it as he placed one palm on either side of his chest. God, Ethan could barely breathe. They were going to kiss. It was finally going to happen. He didn’t know what cloud of confidence had washed over him and tarnished his better judgment, but Ethan didn’t care. He wanted Mark. _Desperately._ The brunette was uncertain where the adrenaline rush had come from, but he could feel it beating in his ears as he balled up the fabric of his friend’s shirt in his hands, slowly finding himself leaning down. Fuck, _please_. The only thing on the young man’s mind was Mark. The way his chest felt underneath his hands…the way his eyes flickered…the way his lips looked and how _desperately_ Ethan wanted them pressed against his. To lean in slow…to savor every second as if it was his last breath; for Mark to grip his waist tighter than the young man gripped his shoulders. Ethan was about to lean in closer, to take what he had wanted to seize for so long…but then Charlotte had walked in. It was obvious they had woken her up with their previous laughter, so she had gone to investigate. 

Of course, the young man had been stunned for a few seconds, caught in a state of shock. However, once the man had finally come to his senses, the first thing he had done had been practically throwing himself off of his friend, almost stumbling off of the couch. Ethan had reached over behind Mark’s back for the remote, tying it together with an excuse in attempts to get the young girl to pay little attention to the matter. After all, it appeared as if Charlotte was beyond exhausted anyway. The brunette almost felt guilty, in fact, that they had managed to wake her up. Nevertheless, Mark had been quick on his feet to get her back to bed, obviously in attempts to escape the situation. The young man didn’t blame his friend, though…part of him just wanted to sink into a small ball and _die_. God, it was beyond embarrassing. Ethan had debated getting up and just leaving right that second, without another word, because part of him didn’t know if he would be able to look the older man in the eye again. What was this, some twisted fucking game of chicken? Was everything supposed to just be… _normal_ afterward? The young man’s heart had been stuck in his throat, his knee bouncing as he held the remote loosely in his hand, not even knowing what the fuck he was doing with himself…what he was doing with his _friend_. Ethan had said it too many times over, Mark was his friend. Whatever the fuck he was doing with him,he shouldn’t be…no matter how much he wanted it, and even if he longed for it desperately. 

Yet, despite everything…Ethan had allowed himself to stay. He had remained silent on the couch, glancing around cautiously and keeping to his corner of the couch. He wouldn’t allow what had just happened to happen again. So, when Mark had returned to the couch…the only thing the young man had said was how he hoped his favorite show was on. That was all. Nothing more; all he had needed to do was change the conversation. Sure enough, it had worked. Neither of them had mentioned what had just happened…Ethan couldn’t tell whether his friend was ashamed of it or hadn’t really acknowledged it for what it had been. _Had_ it been anything? Fuck, it couldn’t just be nothing. Could it? No. The young man had allowed his hands to run down to his friend’s _chest_ …Mark had placed his hands on his thighs, each of them practically trembling against the other…yet neither of them had mentioned it afterward. As if it never happened…as if they would just allow themselves to ignore it. However…that was exactly what had happened. The two of them had simply kept their distance for the rest of the night, although it hadn’t exactly been uncomfortable. Just…different. They had cracked a few jokes during the show, obviously not minding the presence of the other, but…God, all the young man had wanted to do was crawl back into his friend’s lap and kiss him hungrily. Ethan was desperate for it…to feel Mark’s hands resting on his hips before slipping underneath his shirt, or digging through his hair and just _tugging_. But it hadn’t happened.

Instead, the night had ended like it had the previous. The young man and his friend had set up the sofa-bed with the sheets and covers from the closet, where Ethan would once again borrow a pillow from Mark. A simple ‘goodnight’ had been shared, but that was all, and the older man had returned to his room while the brunette laid on the mattress, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he just allowed himself to imagine; imagine all the things he wanted Mark to do to him, all the ways the man could _ruin him_ with just the snap of his fingers. Yet, despite everything he wanted, Ethan had stayed on the sofa-bed, his heart thudding in his chest and his stomach churning. The fact that he had been able to even fall asleep was some sort of Christmas miracle, especially considering how his mind had been clouded over or most of the evening. The only comforting thing that could have possibly coaxed him into sleeping was his ecstasy inducing imagination, the pure thought of kissing Mark…the older man holding him in his arms as the younger just confessed to everything. It was unhealthy to think of such things, Ethan knew that well enough, but he couldn’t help himself. So…the brunette had allowed himself to indulge in the thoughts, pulling the covers up to his shoulders and closing his eyes, a small smile peeking onto his face with a look of pure _bliss_. 

However, despite managing to block out all the sounds of the night as he slowly drifted off to sleep…rain wasn’t one of them. Not once did the young man hear droplets banging against the window, of wind whipping outside as the older man had suggested. It was enough to make Ethan almost chuckle, of course. Nevertheless, he had slept perfectly. There hadn’t been a time where he had tossed or turned, and despite the fact that he couldn’t remember what he had dreamed about…Ethan was sure it was wonderful. Now, the young man continued to lay lazily on the sofa-bed, humming softly to himself, the better part of him attempting to coax him into sitting up. Just a few more minutes, though, Ethan insisted. The young man couldn’t even remember a time in his life where he had _actually_ slept this good…it was oddly comforting. 

Nevertheless, Ethan allowed himself to finally sit up, a groggy groan escaping his lips the second he opened his eyes. The sheets and covers fell from his bare shoulders and chest to pool around his waist, draping over his lower half. His shoulder blades arched backward as he blinked heavily, the last hint of drowsiness draining away from him as he glanced over to the window. Instead of light pouring through the windows, cascading across the hardwood floor, and streaking across the covers, the sky was dim. The sun hadn’t risen yet, which was now obvious to the young man, and it made him want to stay underneath the covers more than ever. However, at the same time, staying in bed wouldn’t get him anywhere. After all, Ethan supposed that he needed to get leaving. He didn’t really have any intentions of staying the entire morning, afternoon, and evening with his friend. Sure, he _wanted_ to…but that would surely be being given an inch and taking a mile. Mark had only invited him to stay the night, since it was supposedly supposed to rain…he hadn’t mentioned anything about staying over for the day. That would be overstaying his visit, surely, and that wasn’t what the young man wanted. Ethan shifted, blindly searching underneath the covers for his old shirt, which he eventually found, a wrinkled mess obviously. He didn’t care, though. It would be enough to get him home, and he could change into something else then. As for his jeans, they had been kicked off on the floor the second Mark had left.

Ethan glanced over to the kitchenette, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw Mark standing there, smiling awkwardly as he held two mugs, which the young man could only assume were filled with coffee; a few wisps of steam billowed out behind the rim of each mug, practically evaporating into the air afterward as the older man stood there, not saying anything for a few seconds. The young man cocked his eyebrow before realizing, quickly reaching for a fistful of his shirt and bringing it to cover his chest. His friend cleared his throat awkwardly as he started over, making an obvious glance over to the wall. Ethan slipped his shirt on. “I, uh, I made coffee,” Mark explained finally, turned his attention back to his friend before he continued over. Ethan gave an appreciative smile, nodding his head in understanding as he sat up a bit more, watching as the older man came over and rested the mug on the side table beside the arm of the couch. “I just saw you shifting and everything, thought I might as well have something for you to wake up to…I mean, I would want to wake up to coffee, at least.” A shy smile was brooding on his friend’s face as he allowed himself to sit in the armchair nearby. Ethan observed him carefully, watching as the older man took a sip of his coffee, relaxing into the cushions of the chair as he let out a content sigh.

His own cup of coffee tempted him with the bitter fragrance nearby, comfort awaiting him. Ethan reached over, almost sighing from his the warmth of the porcelain met his palms, being more than enough to wake him up, even if he hadn’t taken a sip yet. The young man brought the rim of the cup to his lips, sighing contently as he took a sip. Sure enough, it was amazing. Just what he needed in the morning, to be exact, and more than a wonderful thing to wake up to. It was awfully thoughtful, to say the least. For a few seconds, the two of them didn’t say anything, allowing the content silence to linger heavily in the air, breathing it in as they enjoyed their coffee. Each of them took small sips, occasionally glancing at the other, as if they expected their friend to be the first one to start speaking. Ethan cleared his throat, shifting on the sofa-bed. Mark glanced to him with interest.

“Thank you,” the young man said softly, gesturing his head to the cup of coffee. “For this…for letting me stay the night and everything. You didn’t need to do that, I…” his voice trailed off as Mark shifted in his chair, “…I could have walked home in the rain.”

Mark rolled his eyes good-naturedly, causing the young man to smile despite himself. “Come on, did you honestly think I would just ship you off like that?” The brunette pursed his lips, shrugging to his shoulders. His friend had never done anything like that, but at the same time, Ethan knew that he could be unpredictable. “Well, for future reference, I would never send you to walk home in the rain, or in the dark, or when it’s snowing. I won’t send you home if it’s too _cold_.” The young man smiled shyly into the sleeve of his shirt, still holding his cup of coffee. “Friends help friends.”

Ethan paused, sucking in a soft breath before nodding his head. It was just the way the older man threw around that word… _friend_. As if nothing that had happened yesterday had even happened. Sure, he knew well enough that the two of them were nothing more than friends, but Jesus the man was started to hate the way the older man regarded him as such. Maybe everything they were doing really _was_ some twisted fucking game of gay chicken…one that neither of them even dared to acknowledge. Was Mark ashamed of it? Was that the problem? Oh God, what if he was? The young man could feel a sickening twist in his gut, as if it was being forcefully tied into a knot, and all he could do was sit there and nod, acting as if everything was alright….as if last night hadn’t been heaven on earth for him. Ethan simply took another sip of his coffee, as small as the other ones, the point where hardly anything had even been drunk. “Yeah…” was all the man could breathe out, nodding his head slowly, “friends help friends.” There was a long pause between them; Ethan glanced over at his friend, noticing how he pursed his lips to contain a smile. “Whatcha thinking about?” Was all he could chuckle, cocking his eyebrow as he shifted on the sofa-bed again.

“I’ve got an idea,” Mark returned plainly. He shifted, reaching over to rest his mug of coffee on the side table. The young man hummed softly, acknowledging it and silently asking for him to continue. The brunette could only assume that they were going to go out on the fire escape again to watch the sunrise, which was something that he didn’t mind at all. Of course, Ethan didn’t know if he would be able to contain himself from sinking in if he was in close proximity to Mark. Whatever boundaries the man had set for himself the second he realized he liked the older man…they had all snapped the previous night, and the young man didn’t know how well he would be able to stop himself from hyperventilating. God, he couldn’t just… _crawl_ onto his friend’s lap one day and act as if it didn’t happen the next. Sure, Mark seemed to be getting along just fine with pretending it didn’t happen, probably to spare himself the humiliation. That was the only thing keeping the young man’s mouth shut…the fact that part of him _knew_ this wasn’t what his friend wanted. If it was, surely he would have said something already. Surely he would have brought it up in a positive light…maybe _asked him_ about it. He hadn’t though. Mark hadn’t mentioned it, so Ethan wouldn’t either…it was sort of like keeping a secret, except it was fucking pointless because they were both there to witness it. The brunette didn’t _think_ it was obvious that he had feelings for Mark…he didn’t know what he would do with himself if it _was_ apparent, though.

“I’m not gonna tell you, yet,” the older man continued, finally standing out of his chair, obviously having read the look of curiosity plastered on Ethan’s face. The young man gave a good-natured roll of his eyes, shifting on the bed and watching his friend take a step over, outstretching his hand to help him up. “You gotta trust me, though.”

“Let me put some pants on first, Aladdin,” Ethan joked in return, smiling shyly as his friend gave a quick nod, reaching for his cup of coffee. Well, the young man supposed that maybe they _weren’t_ going out on the fire escape. After all, it wouldn’t really be worth the suspense…unless that was the entire point and it was some stupid joke. Either way, the young man leaned over the side of the sofa-bed, finding his pants. Mark glanced over at the wall as the brunette stood up, slipping them on and jumping into them slightly. “Alright, this better be some surprise,” the man joked.

“Get your coffee,” Mark insisted, gesturing his hand over to the side table where Ethan had placed his mug. The young man bit his lip, suppressing his smile and flicker of curiosity for a few seconds as he reached over for his coffee cup. Ethan shifted, standing up from the sofa-bed and looking at his friend, still interested. He held his coffee carefully with both hands, glancing out the window to see that it still wasn’t bright out, before reluctantly following after his friend. “Do you want a jacket?” Mark questioned, glancing over his shoulder as he walked over to the kitchen table. Ethan paused, thinking about it for a few seconds. Well, at least now he knew the two of them were going outside. It didn’t _look_ like it would be that cold out. After all, if they were watching the sunrise as the young man assumed, it was bound to get warmer anyway. After another second, Ethan shook his head, watching as his friend grabbed the keys to the apartment off of the edge of the table. The brunette cocked his eyebrow, slightly confused as he hesitantly trailed after him, watching silently as his friend turned to the door. 

“Wait, what about Charlotte?” Ethan asked quickly, glancing his head over his shoulder to peer into the hallway. Her door was cracked open ever so slightly, as she appreciated because she didn’t like the door closed completely. The faint ballerina pink gleam from her nightlight poured a streak into the dim hallway, and it was more than enough to make the young man smile. The brunette didn’t want to go anywhere far with the young girl still in the apartment. After all, she could wake up. Although, he supposed she was a heavy sleeper…as long as she was _left alone to sleep_. Not like the previous night, where Charlotte had awoken to their laughter, and had most likely gone to investigate due to the fact that it had stopped so abruptly. Mark glanced at him, giving a watery smile of appreciation. 

“We’ll be back before she gets up, promise,” he returned softly, shoving his keys into his back pocket before reaching forward and unlocking the door. Ethan glanced over his shoulder again, lingering near the kitchen table for a few more seconds, humming softly as if she would awake any second. Of course, this wasn’t the case, so he turned his head back around and simply gave a small nod in return. “Thank you though…for caring about her and everything,” Mark continued, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he glanced over the younger man’s shoulder for a few seconds, his attention obviously being caught by the pink streak of light. The older man sighed contently, his gaze returning to Ethan. “It really does mean a lot that she has someone besides me that cares for her. That…honestly wasn’t anything I was expecting after, you know, my ex-girlfriend left and all.” Ethan smiled awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. It was a compliment, yes, but the man always felt slightly uncomfortable whenever his friend mentioned his ex-girlfriend. A tinge of jealousy would always manage to sabotage the better part of him, even though the young man _knew_ that Mark and Kaitlyn weren’t even dating anymore…even though he had never even _met her_. It was always just enough, though, to have Ethan clearing hi throat and attempting to change the subject.

He didn’t know why he was even jealous of the whole ordeal. For fuck’s sake, they had broken up _six years ago_. Ethan had been _eighteen_. It wasn’t like the young man could have swept in and done anything about the situation, he was practically a teenager. It was just enough, though, to remind him of the fact that at the end of the day he was _still_ just Mark’s friend, and he was _still_ just Charlotte’s babysitter…and it seemed as if he would never be anything more. Ethan knew he was supposed to be content with this fact…he was supposed to be alright with savoring their close friendship over the next nine months, acting as if the fact that he wanted to be something more was _itching_ underneath his skin. The man sucked in a heavy breath, keeping the smile plastered on his face while giving a small nod to accompany it, almost as if he was fine. The sooner he managed to just… _push all of this aside_ , the better off he would be, and Ethan knew that. He couldn’t live his life just circling around a fantasy he had romanticized in his head, something that he knew well enough his friend was ashamed of. He couldn’t push that on him…God, he shouldn’t even be glorifying it. It wasn’t right.

“Well, as long as we’re back before,” Ethan managed, a confident nod following. Mark smiled back at him, genuinely, before opening the door of the apartment. The brunette stood there for a few seconds, holding his cup of coffee carefully in both palms before stepping forward, a small nod as if to say thank you, moving to the hallway. He glanced back over his left shoulder, just ever so slightly, watching as his friend closed the door behind him, pulling his keys out of his pockets to lock it again.

“Would it be inappropriate to ask where we’re going?” The young man continued, smiling a bit as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The older man didn’t answer, grinning as he gestured his head for Ethan to follow. The brunette stood where he was for a few more seconds, an almost breathless simper peeking onto his lips, and he couldn’t help but just shake his head in a good-natured fashion. Despite the fact that it seemed as if his own feelings were attempting to meddle with their friendship, the young man just couldn’t _help_ but behave genial with him. “Or don’t tell me, that’s perfectly fine,” Ethan joked, trailing behind him eagerly. “I mean, I _assume_ we’re going outside…you asked me about the jacket and all. I guess it’s cold out since the sun hasn’t risen yet.” Mark hummed in understanding for a few seconds, not quite answering the question. The young man stood beside him as they peached the elevator, waiting for him to press the button. However, instead of pressing the one that would take them to the lobby, the older man pressed the one that would simply take them up to a higher floor. The brunette couldn’t help but cock his eyebrow out of pure confusion. That…didn’t make any sense. Were they just going to drink their coffee in the hallway of a random floor?

“Up?” Ethan questioned, glancing at Mark with confusion.

“Do you have a problem with that?” The older man asked, not answering his friend’s question as he looked back at him. The young man paused, not really knowing what he was supposed to answer with. The man didn’t really _know_ where they were going. Sure, Ethan was sure it would be something interesting, considering it was being kept in suspense…he wasn’t one hundred percent certain, though.

“Well, I dunno,” the young man admitted, shrugging his shoulders as he watched the analog number above the elevator doors slowly descend, going down as the elevator moved between floors. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for the satisfying ding of the elevator. “It depends on where we’re going and what we’re doing. I can’t _guarantee_ that I won’t have a problem with it, because for all I know we could just be going to some random floor and just drinking our coffee. I mean, _nothing against that_ …it would just be kinda boring.”

Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. “I can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

The young man smiled shyly. “Well, if the place is interesting, you can,” the man mentioned, leaning against his friend gently. Ethan sighed contently, feeling instantly solaced. It really was a wonderful feeling…something that the young man didn’t want to lose; he didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t want to toss away the friendship that he already cherished…the ability to just lean against him whenever he wanted. The ability for Ethan to talk to him so freely without worrying about if he was stepping over his boundaries…all of that was slowly melting away after what had happened last night. God, the young man just wished he could turn back time so none of that had happened…maybe things wouldn’t be so silently awkward. It was just the undertones that loomed heavily in the air…ones reminding Ethan that everything he and Mark had, platonic or possibly not, was teetering on the edge. There was nothing the young man could do to get it back to where it was…but all it would take was a single boost of confidence to send it over the edge; _everything_. It wasn’t the way the young man wanted it to be, of course…but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Turning back time was obviously out of the question, and the only way to even _manage_ to get things remotely back to the way they used to be would to confront the subject…and Ethan didn’t want to bring it up. “I just like knowing where we’re going, is all.”

“What, you don’t trust me?” The older man joked.

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” the younger giggled, giving him a playful shove. Not as strong as he usually did, of course, considering they were both holding coffee mugs. “I trust you a whole lot.” He smiled a bit. The elevator had almost reached their floor. God, why was it moving so fucking slow? 

“With your life?” Mark questioned.

“Jesus Christ, I dunno,” Ethan chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe? I mean, you seem like the kind of person who I could trust my life with. You’re…I dunno, it depends on the situation. If it’s some sort of _Saw_ shit, maybe not, but if it’s a physical thing…you look like you could save my life.” Mark tilted his head back slightly, letting out a bit of almost wheezing laughter, as if the statement surprised him. “ _What_? It’s a genuine comment! I think that in certain circumstances, like if I was…I dunno, dangling off the side of a building or some shit, you wouldn’t drop me. Like, you would be able to save me…I don’t know! You put me on the spot here, did you just want me to say…no?” Mark smiled a bit, obviously not knowing what to say. “Now come on, seriously. _Where are we going_?”

The elevator door opened almost on command, the soft ding following. The young man glanced at his friend, noticing how the older man attempted to stifle his laughter. Mark gestured his hand toward the open doors, ushering him in first. Sure enough, the brunette hesitantly stepped in. He was always uncomfortable in elevators, and he supposed that it wasn’t a feeling he would be able to shake anytime soon. It was just the thought of being suspended in the air without nothing but cables, despite the fact that they were _incredibly_ supportive, that got his skin crawling and the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Stupid, he knew that well enough…after all, when was the last time anyone had ever read about an _elevator accident_? They were practically unheard of. However, this time…the man found that he didn’t mind it as much. Ethan wasn’t sure if it was the caffeine messing with him, or the fact that his friend was with him, but he barely shuttered as Mark stepped in and the elevator doors closed practically on command. Although, the young man did allow himself to reach over for the railing attached firmly to the wall of the elevator, wrapping his fingers loosely around the cool metal texture, almost as if that could possibly help him if the elevator _were_ to fall all the way down. The older man glanced at him, a soft huff of good-natured laughter escaping his lips. Ethan glanced at him with confusion.

“Afraid of elevators, huh?” Mark questioned.

Ethan sunk into himself ever so slightly. “Everyone’s afraid of something,” he returned defensively, half-joking and half-trying to push the conversation topic somewhere else…somewhere other than the fact that he was afraid of elevators. “I mean, think about it. We’re in a metal box suspended God knows how many feet above the ground. Over fifty, at least. Even if something _did_ happen…what if we get stuck between floors? They can’t help us then or get to us. And if the cable _snaps_ …we’ll plummet down all the way to the bottom, and we wouldn’t even be able to get out because this thing is small. Sure, we could do some shit like from the prequels, but we don’t exactly have lightsabers, do we, Mark?” The older man’s eyes widened slightly, flickering with mere amusement as he listened to his friend ramble on. It was nice…Ethan felt comfortable talking with his friend, even if it was over something stupid. “If anything, it makes me brave. I’m not afraid of ghosts, or spiders, or the dark, or snakes. I’m scared of elevators. None of the stuff that everybody else finds scary isn’t scary to me, which is saying something.”

“It doesn’t make you brave, it makes you irrational,” Mark chuckled. The young man watched curiously as his friend reached over, eagerly pressing the button to the top floor. “I just hope that you’re not afraid of heights.”

“Course not,” the young man mumbled shyly.

“Mm, you sure about that?” Mark teased.

“Very much so,” Ethan insisted, straightening up a bit. He hummed, gripping the railing of the elevator just a bit tighter as he felt them going up. He couldn’t help but notice the way his friend just laughed softly, not a care in the world. It was as if he truly didn’t _care_ about the previous night…was Mark really ignoring it to the point where the fact that they had almost _kissed_ rolled off his shoulders like rain dripping down an umbrella? Maybe the older man was just oblivious to the fucking _tension_ Ethan sensed lingering overhead, something so thick he could cut it with a knife if he wanted to. It just remained there…it didn’t get in the way of conversation, or make their pauses and silences any less comfortable than they usually were…but it was there nonetheless. Like the smudge in the corner of your glasses that you couldn’t quite wipe away…it didn’t get in the way of your vision, but just knowing it was there was enough to make anyone frustrated. That was how the young man felt deep down in his core… _frustration_. The fact that Mark hadn’t even said a word about anything…the way he acted as if he hadn’t placed his hands on his thighs, feeling him up as Ethan _straddled_ him. Good God, it had been so hard to breathe. Had the older man just… _forgotten_ it? There wasn’t an ounce of shame littered in this bearing…it was more than enough to put Ethan on edge. Why didn’t he care? How could he stand within a foot of the younger man after everything that had happened? The two of them had been so reluctant to push each other away from the previous night…but the brunette didn’t think they would just push their _feelings_ away as well.

This couldn’t be one-sided. The better part of Ethan knew that…unless is was just some fucking _accident_. Something the older man had allowed himself to indulge in, like some _sinner_ , for just a few seconds…only to push it away and act as if nothing had happened…to remind himself that he could do better. It was a stupid way of thinking about it, but it was the only explanation. Mark was ashamed…and Ethan wasn’t. It was the line that had seemingly been drawn in the sand between them; at least, the young man couldn’t assume any less of him. Part of Ethan knew he was supposed to be ashamed…he knew that he shouldn’t be going after his _friend_ like that. God, he wasn’t even just his friend…the man was Charlotte’s father first. That was how Ethan had learned of the older man…and to think that he wanted him as something more was ridiculous. How many times did he have to repeat himself to get it in his head? The young man thought this was what he wanted…but it probably wasn’t. After all, it surely didn’t seem to be what Mark wanted…if it was, knowing the confidence his friend obtained, he would have acted on it the previous night. He would have tugged Ethan back into a kiss…and God, the young man could just melt thinking about it, the thought swirling around in his head as he romanticized it into oblivion. 

Why did it have to be him? Why, out of all the people he could have ever fallen for, did it have to be Mark? His best friend? The father of the girl he had been babysitting for the past four months? How someone already hadn’t managed to sweep the older man off his feet in the past six years was something Ethan could hardly fathom. 

After another few seconds, the door of the elevator opened, Mark stepping out of the way and allowing Ethan to exit first. The young man glanced at him gratefully as he walked past, smiling shyly before grabbing his coffee mug with both hands. He hummed softly, allowing himself to glance down the hallway…almost as if he had been expecting something else apart from the plaster alabaster walls, matched with the pine green carpet and hickory brown doors that lined the walls and separated the molding. Of course, that was what was to be expected…the top floor was like any other floor, after all. Apartment after apartment, each one Ethan assumed was the same cookie-cutter model as the last…two bedrooms, a bathroom, a closet, and a decent sized entrance that was met directly by the kitchenette and living room, although no wall divided it. It was only something the young man could really dream of…being able to live in an apartment that wasn’t incredibly substandard. Of course, Ethan supposed that living in a decent apartment was only meant for those who actually had a job that was something apart from a babysitter or waiter…meant for someone with a college education. Not the young man, to say the least. Regardless, though, he could only dream of finding an occupation that wasn’t centered around the degrees he had, or the jobs he had had in the past…only on what he was willing to offer, and the character he provided with it. Almost impossible, though. The world wasn’t built for people who weren’t already well off on their own…everybody knew that. Ethan was no stranger to the way the world worked, and he didn’t allow himself to humor even the mere imagination of having more than he already did, because that would be practically impossible. The world wasn’t made for him, he had realized soon enough…and he supposed it was about time he accepted it.

“So…do we just…sit down?” Ethan questioned, feeling the older man’s presence beside him as he stood in the hallway, glancing around. “Like, against the wall, or something?”

Mark chuckled softly. “You really have no idea where we’re going, do you?” He asked in return, cocking his eyebrow slightly. Ethan paused, looking over his shoulder and over Mark’s as if he were to receive any clues. Of course, just as the young man had expected, there were no signs that pointed to what the older man could be hinting it. Were they simply visiting someone on the top floor? That didn’t make any sense, since Mark claimed he didn’t have any other friends, but Ethan was going to allow himself to sweep the concept off the table.

“In someone’s…apartment?” The brunette squeaked, cringing from his own words as Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. “Well, what’d’you want me to say?” He questioned defensively, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, although he allowed himself to give a half-simper in return. It was impossible to not smile around his friend. “I have absolutely no idea where we’re going. I mean, considering the fact that you haven’t told me yet…isn’t this supposed to be a surprise?” Mark pursed his lips for a few seconds.

“Follow me,” was all he replied with.

“As if I haven’t been doing that for the past, like, _five minutes_ ,” Ethan scoffed playfully, although he didn’t waste a second before he found himself trailing behind Mark. However, after a few seconds, he found himself walking beside him instead of behind him…it was nice. He could spare the older man a few glances as they traveled down the hallways, though each one seemed to be just as unreciprocated as the last…but Ethan didn’t mind. “Can I have a hint?” Was all he could manage, his voice in a whisper as if he was concealing a secret. Well…sort of. 

“Alright…um,” Mark started, his voice trailing off as he gestured his hand over toward a door that was unlike the other ones in the line. Dissimilar from the other hickory and umber wooden doors that lined the hallway, each one fixed with the apartment room number beside it, as well as a peephole…this door didn’t. In fact, it didn’t even appear to have a lock on the knob, something Ethan found concerning until he took a few steps forward. He glanced at the older man, noticing how he smiled. “How’s that for a hint?” He questioned. Ethan paused, looking at the door again before he realized that the reason the door was distinguishable was that it didn’t lead to an apartment…it didn’t lead to the same cookie-cutter replication behind ever door that edged the wall. The door Ethan was staring at would most likely lead to the stairwell, which would be paired with a set of stairs that would lead him up or down. They obviously weren’t going down, considering Mark wouldn’t have taken him to the highest floor just to tell him they were going down a flight of stairs…so they must have been going up.

“We’re…we’re going to the _roof_?” Ethan managed, glancing over his left shoulder at his friend. 

“Just thought I could add a little bit of excitement to the morning,” Mark returned, smiling proudly. The young man didn’t know what to say for a few seconds, absolutely flabbergasted. They were going…on the _roof_ of an apartment building. “I mean, we could have gone on the fire escape, I guess, but I wanted to do something a little more fun. Besides, what better way to catch a glimpse at the sunrise than on a _roof_. You’ll get a better view than yesterday morning, to say the least.”

Ethan stood there for a few more seconds before he found himself bursting out into laughter, something close to hysterics, and he hardly knew why. It was just one of those moments where the only thing he could think about doing was laughing, and soon enough Mark was shushing him, all while smiling and insisting that he was going to wake everyone in the hallway up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the younger man wheezed, attempting to stifle his laughter and regain his composure, but he found himself just laughing all over again. Thankfully, he was able to quiet it down, but he didn’t really know what had gotten into him. “It’s just…” another small burst of giggles, “…the way you literally didn’t tell me about anything we were doing made it seem like we were going on this amazing expedition…and it’s just us having coffee on the roof.”

Mark punched him playfully on the shoulder.

“You’re an asshole,” he teased.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested!” Ethan exclaimed, allowing the rest of the giggles to exit his system, leaving him there just smiling something close to blissful. “It sounds lovely…I promise.” His voice trailed off slowly at the end, growing softer as his eyes met Mark’s. He sucked in a soft breath to keep himself from practically falling over. The young man could do it right now if he wanted to. He could rest his coffee mug carefully on the floor, not even needing to say another word…and he could kiss him. Kiss _Mark_. Ethan could have his arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders within a second, and he would be lying if he insisted he wasn’t imaging the thought of their chests pressed together. It was enough to make him melt right where he was standing. “Uh…do you wanna go first? Or…?” 

“Oh,” Mark added quickly, clearing his throat. “Yeah, um, I’ll…I’ll do that first,” he gave an awkward smile, although he allowed his gaze to linger on Ethan for a few more seconds, standing in place as if he hadn’t just spoken up. The young man held his breath, only exhaling once his friend had pulled away and stepped over to the door. Ethan turned on his heels, being mindful of his coffee mug, as he watched the older man reach over, twisting the knob and opening the door. Sure enough, it lead to a stairwell. “The great thing about it is you don’t have to be anywhere near the edge to get a good view of the sunrise,” the older man continued as-a-matter-of-factly, glancing back at his friend as he held the door for him. “You can just kinda stand in the center of the entire roof if you wanted, and you can see it just the same.”

“That’s comforting,” the young man chuckled.

“Sure is,” Mark admitted, humming softly as he made his way over toward the stairs that lead up. At the top of the stairs stood a parchment white door, which looked as if it had been chipped away over the years. Ethan doubted that it had been replaced even once since the day the building was first constructed. “I haven’t done this in a while,” he continued, smiling to himself as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, guiding Ethan up the staircase. The young man followed after him, holding the mug of coffee relatively close to his chest, listening to his friend attentively. “I sort of just stopped once I got busy and couldn’t find time for myself…and, I mean, I still have a lot of stuff that I need to get done today…but that doesn’t mean I can’t spend a few minutes in the morning watching the sunrise. If I’m gonna be completely honest, I’m only really doing all this because _you’re here_ , and I guess I would just be answering emails by now if you hadn’t stayed the night…but I appreciate this, you know?”

“Glad to know I’m a reason you can enjoy yourself,” Ethan joked.

“You act as if you didn’t know that already,” the older man returned…his voice more serious than the brunette’s. His voice was just as gentle as before, sure, but it lacked the humorous undertones that had littered Ethan’s previous statement. For a few seconds, the young man didn’t even know how to respond. Was he supposed to thank him? Give a subtle nod before ignoring the comment all together? _Question him_ about it? Good God, not that one, despite the fact that Ethan was beyond curious for a deeper meaning. Instead, though, he chose the second, simply smiling with appreciation before brushing the thought off altogether. This was the horrible mindset he had that would only get him in trouble…the one where anything Mark said was enough to leave him absolutely speechless. If only the older man knew. “I mean, you’re my best friend after all.”

There was that word. _Best friend_. God, Ethan despised it. He knew he shouldn’t…he knew he was supposed to be beyond overjoyed that there was someone else in his life besides Sean who actually liked being around him, but he just couldn’t help himself. It was beyond selfish, especially how he was allowing himself to keep everything bottled up inside instead of just _telling Mark_ , but he couldn’t. And even if Ethan could…he shouldn’t. Some things were best left untold, and this was one of those things.

“Well, I’m glad I can make you happy,” the young man replied softly, a flicker of desire brooding and practically clouding his better judgment as he stood beside his friend. Mark said nothing in return, pausing a bit as he held onto the railing, his grip tightening around the banister as he just stood there…falling completely silent. Ethan watched as the older man faltered, opening his mouth to say something, but no words coming out. It was as if he had cut himself off. The brunette stood there in anticipation, waiting for his friend to say something… _anything_. A confession, a hint of something more, a statement, a question about last night…just _something_ more than the silence that loitered between them. Ethan’s own grip tightened around the handle of his coffee mug, attempting to stop his hand from trembling as he looked to Mark, hoping that the cloud of pure _want_ in his eyes wasn’t completely noticeable. “I mean, it’s the least I can do. You make me happy _all the time_.” 

Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. “Oh, do I?” He questioned teasingly. It was just the two of them alone in the stairwell.

“Mhm,” Ethan confirmed gently, his lips pursed together. Just the two of them…standing on the same step, in painfully close proximity to each other, each one of them leaning against the railing on the opposite side, holding their cup of coffee loosely in the grasp. “Every day. I mean, you let me stay over for dinner every night…when I first told you that I didn’t want to, you could have just agreed with me and sent me home. But you didn’t…you told me to stay, and you _actually_ helped me with something that I’ve been… _struggling with_ for so long…and you didn’t give up on me. Even when I fucking… _relapsed_ , you never gave up on me.” Mark smiled shyly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, obviously not knowing what to say. “And the fact that you’re letting me stay over recently…when it’s too cold out, or when you think it’s going to rain…even if it doesn’t end up raining…it’s really thoughtful. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.” The last sentence felt as if he was being stabbed when he said it, but what else could he say? 

“Why do you always gotta get sappy on me?” The older man joked, rolling his eyes in a good-natured fashion, reaching over for the knob of the door that divided the stairwell and the roof. 

“Says the one who asked for me to come over in the middle of the night, just because he wanted a hug,” the younger returned gently, a shit-eating grin visible on his face. Mark pursed his lips, glancing at him as if to respond ‘touché’. “Does any of that ring a bell?”

“As a matter of fact,” Mark replied, glancing over his shoulder at his friend, who stood one step behind him, “it does.” Ethan allowed himself to smile, bringing the rim of the mug to his lips and taking a quick sip of coffee. “But…” the older man continued, his voice trailing off as he twisted the doorknob, not quite pushing it open. “I don’t recall you complaining.”

Ethan could feel his face go flush just from the statement, his friend returning the shit-eating grin that the brunette had once worn. His grip tightened around the railing, swallowing hard as he waited for Mark to just _open the door already_. The older man smiled, turning around completely again as he pushed the door open. Within an instant, the stairwell was filled with the familiar chill of outside, which was only heightened considering they were on a _roof._ The young man savored the feeling of the warm cup against his hands, which he knew wouldn’t last for long once they were finally outside. It didn’t take a snowfall for coffee’s warmth to dim, and this wouldn’t be any exception. Ethan could only hope that the pending sunrise could provide some warmth for them; if the man had known they weren’t leaving the apartment building, he would have brought his blanket with him. Of course, he had only assumed that they were going to the park or something, where it _obviously_ wouldn’t have been appropriate to be carrying one around. The young man could catch a glimpse of the sky from where he was standing, just above his friend’s shoulders and underneath the top frame of the door; a dusty slate and graphite shade, melting down into an almost comforting blend of blush and sepia. Obviously it had already started rising, but not enough for the sky to be filled with warm shades of tangerine, butterscotch, and scarlet. Just enough, though, so that the previous night sky seemed to dissolve into a mellow shade.

Ethan’s fingered slowly slipped away from the railing they had once wrapped around, the young man hesitantly following his friend up the final steps of the stairwell before he found himself standing on the roof of the apartment building. For a few seconds, he almost didn’t know what to say. It was strange, in a way…never something he had done before. He was nowhere close to the edge, of course, but it was so odd knowing that there was nothing surrounding the border. The sights of the buildings were almost astonishing…he could see so much farther than he could from just standing on a measly fire escape. Soon, the man’s almost expressionless impression faded to a breathless smile, his eyes twinkling with the brightness of the sun that slowly climbed into the sky, mixed with the lights of the city that never seemed to sleep. Everything was practically soaked in warm marigold light, basking and streaking along the streets and rooftops, soothing his cheeks as the chill breeze nipped at them. The remaining clouds of steam from his coffee were swept away, the heat slowly fading from the mug, but he didn’t mind it at all. Ethan had never experienced… _anything_ like this before. Feeling completely swept up in a breeze…feeling like he was a million miles in the air as he could look down the entire avenue, his heart thudding relentlessly in his chest. 

The young man had never seen this part of the city before…sure, he had looked down this avenue hundreds of times. He had allowed himself to get swept up in the scent of coffee shops or lingering smells of roasting cashews that they were selling on the side of the street. Ethan had pushed through a sea of people every day, just the same, as he made his way to his friend’s apartment to watch Charlotte. He had pointed out certain skyscrapers to the young girl on their walk to the park, and he practically knew the route by heart…but he had never seen it like this. Never in a way where he just felt so completely free. The young man could feel the presence of his friend standing beside him, but he allowed himself to just focus on the city for a few more seconds. Ethan’s eyes were clouded with pure incredulity, almost as if he couldn’t wrap his head around everything at once. Slowly, though, he took another sip of coffee…the fog from his content sigh being swept out into the breeze. He smiled, giggling softly to himself as he glanced around carefully, turning slowly in a circle as he was overflowed with sights that hadn’t been visible from Mark’s fire escape. Building after building, block after block, avenue after avenue…people flooding the streets just as they had before, the city restless and anxious for the day to start, just like every day before. The cars had already found their way into the once-vacant streets, taxi cabs already fulfilling their jobs of picking people up and bringing them to work. Time stopped for no mouse. Ethan couldn’t help but grin, feeling almost privileged to be able to spend the morning with Mark, standing beside him and just looking out at the world beyond, almost as if it was theirs. And, just for a few seconds…it felt like it was.

Ethan glanced down at his friend as he slowly sat down, being mindful of his coffee mug and sighing with appreciation. The young man allowed himself to stand, though, taking in the slight view of the world below for just a few more seconds; he would eventually sit down, but this was an opportunity he didn’t want to waste. “It’s beautiful…” he breathed out, not even managing to find anything else to say as he let himself take it all in. Mark hummed in return, acknowledging his statement before sipping at his coffee. The young man would have to do this more often, even if he was at his own apartment…this was beyond worthwhile. It wasn’t anything he would have thought of, either. Sure, the concept was completely _outlandish_ …but it was just far enough out of reach that Ethan would have never considered it. It really was wonderful though…beyond perfect. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wondering if anyone from taller skyscrapers was looking down at them with intrigue, or interest…maybe stopping themselves to spare them a glance as they worked in cushy offices. The young man smiled at the thought, although he paused after another second. “You said you stopped doing this cause you got busy?” Ethan questioned, glancing down at his friend after a few seconds, barely being able to force his gaze away from the sunrise.

Mark pursed his lips, taking another sip of coffee and staring off at the horizon. It was obvious he was pondering the question, so the young man remained silent for a few seconds in anticipation. “I lied,” the older admitted, turning his attention to his friend after a few seconds. Ethan paused, waiting for him to continue. “The reason I stopped doing all of this was that I did it all the time with my ex-girlfriend…Kaitlyn and I would basically spend every morning up here, just drinking our coffee and watching the sunrise. After she left though…I couldn’t find it in me to do anything anymore. At least, nothing that reminded me of her. I guess that’s why I got so lonely… _everything_ reminded me of her, and I didn’t want to make connections with people in fear that they would leave me just like she did. Being up here alone just, you know…made me sad.” He shrugged his shoulders as if it was the simplest thing in the world though the statement itself was slightly depressing. “Unsurprisingly, sitting up on the rooftop every morning just wasn’t the best way to cope with things…so I sort of just focused on just me and Charlotte. And that was it.” He paused again, glancing at Ethan. “It’s nice to be able to be up here with you, though. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this happy.”

Ethan slowly sunk down to a sitting position, allowing himself to sit a few inches away from his friend. This was nice. It was wonderful. “Why did you take me up here then if it makes you sad?” He questioned, turning his head just slightly to the right, his chin pressing gently against his shoulder. “I would have been fine with just going on the fire escape like we did yesterday…even just staying in the living room if you wanted to.” Mark simply let out a soft huff of laughter, shaking his head good-naturedly. “What?” The young man asked, giggling softly despite himself. His friend’s soft laughter was simply _contagious_. He couldn’t help himself.

“I dunno,” Mark confessed, shrugging his shoulders after a few seconds, pursing his lips as his eyes met the horizon again. “Just sort of thought…it would be nice to get back into the swing of things. Being…being _happy_.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, opening his mouth as if he was going to say something else, but instead he closed it again. Ethan’s gaze lingered on him shyly, allowing himself to look at Mark’s lips because it’s not like the older man would be able to tell when he was looking at the sky. God, why did he have to be so fucking perfect? It was something that the young man had been almost blind of until now…but now it was impossible to ignore. The older man really _was_ a work of art. It was something Ethan hadn’t noticed, since he had only seen the man as his friend…but, over time, it had slowly started to dawn at him how perfect he was. His hair, his skin, his eyes, his _lips_. Flawless. All Ethan wanted to do was fucking…crawl into his lap again…be able to run his hands down his olive skin and just kiss him, something he, unfortunately, hadn’t been able to do the night before. It was all he wanted and more. _Fuck_. 

“So I really do make you happy?” Ethan asked hesitantly.

Mark almost snorted. “Yes, _idiot_ ,” he returned, a playful harshness in his voice as he shoved him gently. Ethan giggled, despite himself, his coffee sloshing out ever so slightly, but only a bit. “Don’t downtalk yourself.”

“Mm, not downtalking,” Ethan whispered softly, his voice almost breathless as he glanced to his friend, the older man looking back. “Just… _doubting_.” A shy grin peeked onto his face as he leaned his weight back onto his right hand, taking another sip of coffee. Mark rolled his eyes playfully, not saying anything in return. “I’ll have to introduce you to Sean…at least, in a more friendly way,” the young man continued. “He would probably be a _way_ better friend than me.”

“I doubt that,” Mark breathed out, his gaze absolutely piercing as he looked back at him. The young man felt the wind practically being knocked out of him the way the older man looked at him. It was just so simple. The older man cleared his throat awkwardly, opening his mouth hesitantly before he looked back at the sky. “Do you…wanna talk about last night?” He questioned hesitantly. Ethan felt his heart drop in his chest. God, he knew well enough that he had wanted his friend to bring it up…but not like this. Mark seemed beyond uncomfortable…the way he was so hesitant to bring it up, as if he was ashamed. The young man’s face dropped slightly as he looked away. Now he only wished that none of this had brought up. Ethan sucked in a heavy breath. “You don’t…it’s just…I don’t…”

“Did you not like the TV show we watched?” Ethan questioned innocently, his voice almost getting caught in his throat as he looked back at his friend. If he pretended that none of it happened…then it might as well not have. He didn’t need to ruin their friendship if he swept everything underneath the carpet. If he acted like he didn’t know…maybe they could both move on. Mark glanced back at him, his eyebrows furrowing slightly with confusion. “If you wanted me to change the channel, I would have done it. I just thought that you would have liked it, I dunno…you didn’t _mention_ anything about it.” God, why didn’t he just fucking tell him the _truth_? The words were caught at the back of his throat and he just couldn’t find the strength to choke them up. He was fighting with himself internally, his heart beating heavily in his chest. “Maybe the next time we watch TV you can pick the channel.” Ethan smiled weakly, noticing how his friend opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closing it, his eyes softening, almost sadly. The young man forced himself to take a sip of coffee.

“Oh,” Mark mentioned softly. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

“No…no problem,” the young man whispered, pausing as he looked off at the horizon. He took another sip of coffee, breathing softly. Was it awkward now? Did he make it awkward? Should he have just said something. He glanced over at Mark, noticing how he resting his cup of coffee aside, shifting to lay on his back. “You okay?” Ethan continued hesitantly, his voice quivering ever so slightly as he put the cup aside. God, was it ruined? Was… _everything_ ruined? The young man cleared his throat, biting his lip.

“I’m fine,” Mark returned simply, shrugging his shoulders and looking up at the sky. The young man continued to sit up for a few seconds before he laid down beside his friend. “I just…I was just thinking of something. I was wrong though, it’s fine.” The young man’s heart sunk in his chest as he looked up at the sky. It was filled with dandelion, marmalade, and honey…a tone that was supposed to be comforting, but he couldn’t. Not when his friend was beside him, obviously upset over what had happened last night. “Let’s just forget about it…”

“Forget about what?” Ethan whispered, almost innocently, his heart thudding in his chest. He wanted this so bad. To touch him, kiss him, run his hands through his hair. Everything could be his in just a few seconds…all he had to do was lean over and take it. “Look…if you want to talk about something, I’m fine with talking. Just…don’t tell me you’re fine when you’re obviously not fine. I might not have known you my entire life, but I know you well enough to understand when you’re lying and telling the truth.” Ethan sucked in a heavy breath, looking at the sky again. “If I made you upset, all you have to do is tell me.”

“You didn’t make me upset,” the older man huffed, although there was a hint of friendliness. “You couldn’t ever make me upset, Eth. You’re…you’re one of the best things that has fucking happened to me.” Ethan gave a watery smile, his heart fluttering a bit. “You’re so kind, and genuine…you care about me and you care about Charlotte. I’ve _never_ met anyone like that before. Not even…not even with Kaitlyn.” The young man sucked in a heavy breath, holding it tightly in his lungs. “When I met you, I swear to God I was in shambles. Even when I put on a smile, I wasn’t okay…and you made me feel better. Every single day. You became my _best friend_ …so don’t you _ever_ convince yourself that you could _ever_ make me upset.”

Ethan exhaled softy. 

“I lied…” the young man choked out. His breath was quivering as he looked up at the sky, his hand trembling just the same. Ethan didn’t know what he was supposed to say as he lay there, but this was it. Nothing mattered but this. If he could take a leap of faith….then he would take his chance. Even if it just ended in his friend storming off. “I lied…the morning you asked me why I hadn’t been able to sleep. I made some… _stupid_ excuse about why I was staying up all night, and I didn’t mean it. None of it was true…I…I was thinking about _you_.” His heart stung. “I couldn’t sleep…buh-because you were the only one on my mind.” There was a long pause. Mark didn’t say anything. God, it was over, wasn’t it? “And I know that it’s… _stupid_ …but I just couldn’t help myself.” He quickly shut up. His heart was so far up his throat that if he spoke even another word he would start crying, and that was the last thing Ethan wanted. So, he shut up, allowing himself to be quiet. The young man had dug his own grave, and now he was going to lay in it. This was his fault. Their entire friendship was on the line, practically _ruined_ at this point, and it was his fault. Was he fired now? God, he must have been. 

Ethan’s heart leaped in his chest as he felt his friend leaning over. The young man sucked in a heavy breath, feeling the older man’s hand brushing gently against his, just in the slightest way that made his hair stand on end. The brunette felt as if he was plastered to the ground, frozen in place as he just looked up at Mark with astonishment. The older man was leaning over him carefully, his eyes flickering with an expression that seemed as if he was conflicted…one that was filled with dread, yet appreciation at the same time. Ethan felt himself melting into the other man’s touch as Mark cupped the right side of his face with his hand, and the young man swore to God that he had forgotten how to breathe as he became putty against the roof of the apartment building. His eyes widened slightly as Mark’s bottom lip quivered, the space between them slowly thinning and disappearing into oblivion as the older man leaned down, pressing their lips together. And for a few seconds, the young man swore that it was heaven on Earth. His heart practically stopped as he lay there, his hand practically attempting to grip aimlessly at the concrete, his eyes not even closing due to the pure shock of it all. Ethan’s lips were motionless as he lay there, second-guessing everything that he had once thought as his friend kissed his unmoving lips in return. Slowly…gently… _tenderly_. Of course, as soon as the young man was about to lean into it and kiss him back, his friend pulled away, a look of astonishment plastered on his face.

“I’m…I’m so sorry…” was all Mark could utter, obviously referring to how Ethan hadn’t even attempted to kiss back. “I just thought that-”

“Please shut up…” Ethan whispered, his heart sinking back down to his chest as he leaned over again. In one quick motion, the younger man seized Mark’s lips against his, a visible smile on his face. The man hardly knew what he was doing, and he couldn’t even comprehend how he was feeling, but this was it. _This_ was it. Ethan could feel the warmth of the sun rising against his pale hands as he hesitantly reached up to cup Mark’s face, the older man shivering against his almost freezing touch. Both of them had sat up-right, beside each other as the kiss was slow…completely affectionate. Their lips moved in unison, Mark’s hands trembling as he rested them on the younger man’s shoulders. Ethan couldn’t help but giggle into the kiss, his nose brushing gently against his friend’s, God if he could even fucking call him that anymore, as he tilted his head ever so slightly. It was oddly comforting…the feeling of Mark’s lips against his. 

Ethan’s stomach tingled as he pulled himself closer, his hands sinking down from the older man’s face to rest on the concrete. Mark hummed carefully against his lips, his hands moving repeatedly in awkward attempts to find somewhere he could place them; rapidly from his shoulders to his face, then underneath his jaw, then his waist. The young man could only whir, almost with approval. The brunette wasn’t going to allow himself to waste even a _second._ Ethan shifted closer, his hands quivering as they moved from his cheeks to upper jaw, his wrists practically resting on each side of his neck as he just indulged in a quite frankly _intoxicating_ feeling. The young man had never believed in the term ‘drunk on life’, but this was what it was like. Just the glorious befuddled thoughts that whirled through his mind, none of them coherent, to the point where they clouded over the fact that he needed to _breathe_.

Ethan pulled away sharply, although his forehead remained pressed against Mark’s. He sucked in soft, panting breaths. “Jesus…” was all he could whisper. Kissing Mark felt so sinful…yet so _heavenly_. The young man swallowed hard, allowing himself to continue taking in repeated short breaths, his mind completely fogged of anything _intelligent_ to say. How he had wanted this, how he had feelings for him, how they needed to _talk about this_. All of that was gone and replaced to a strange, stomach tingling emotion that the man hadn’t felt before. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” was all Mark could manage in return, leaning in again. Ethan was compliant, humming contentedly as he allowed his eyes to fall shut again. This kiss was different than the last, though…the older man kissed him roughly, almost _hungrily_. This was a feeling the young man knew well enough Mark had been starved of for years. Ethan let himself part his lips, ever so slightly, the older man tilting his head and taking anything he could get from the brunette. The young man finds himself carefully straddling Mark’s lap, almost a repetition of the previous night…except its _real_. Ethan’s hands are on Mark’s chest, balling up at the fabric of his shirt; the older man’s hands rest on his thighs, squeezing almost teasingly every second the young man allows himself to take a breath of _air_. And that was how they spent their morning…practically in silence and just allowing themselves to melt into each other’s touch, kissing as if they would cease to exist if they didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally decided to give you guy what you wanted…I better see some appreciation  
> (jkjk, lol)
> 
> Just wanted to give a quick thank you for literally 700 kudos, what the fuck? Like, 700 people clicked on this shit and LIKED IT. I mean, that’s saying something, and I really appreciate it. There are 104 people who are currently getting EMAIL SUBSCRIPTIONS or this, which I think is absolutely insane that you guys like it enough for that. I literally cannot thank you enough.
> 
> The wordcount is 250k now, so there’s that. I’ve written over 300k words of Crankiplier fanfiction (obviously counting FFITA), which is kinda weird to say out loud. My parents would be ashamed, and that’s how you know it’s dedication. Lmfao.
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated
> 
> Love you,  
> Simply


	34. What are We...and What do We Want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a big ass break  
> But we're back in business

It really was like Ethan was in heaven. At least, that was what the young man could have sworn. There really was no explanation or it…no way to describe how he was feeling other than relief, and that didn’t even begin to describe it. It felt as if a heavy set of weights had been lifted off of his shoulder, seemingly freeing him…allowing him to breathe. For what appeared to be the longest week of his life, Ethan had found himself suffocating…like he wasn’t allowed the privilege of air whenever he was around Mark. When the brunette was around the older man, the last thing he was thinking about was breathing. All he had allowed himself to do was hold his stature, attempt to impress him as he concealed his faults, all while silently chastising himself for appearing awkward or stupid. It was just the little voice in the back of his head that was reminding him that he could be better…that the young man could change something to twist the conversation in his favor, or he could ignore his food for a few more seconds just to gain Mark’s attention, or maybe he could just allow himself to stay a little longer. For what seemed like the entire week, Ethan had been permitting the voice in his head to guide him with absolutely everything, as long as it was in favor of the romanticized thoughts he had allowed himself to be wrapped up in, practically _enveloped in_.

That was the only thing that had been on his mind for the entirety of the week, and it had been dreadful and frustrating, yet _marvelous_ at the same time. How the young man had allowed it all to get to that point though, where the only thing he could think about was Mark or anything _Mark related_ , was beyond him. That was never a feeling he had allowed himself to indulge in before, not even for over a second. When those thoughts had emerged in his mind during high school, Ethan would always push them back down, drowning them with thoughts about how it was wrong, and how he couldn’t, and how they didn’t care about him anyway. That same part of him that would _kill_ to get someone’s attention was the same part of him that suffocated any hopeful thoughts of reciprocated feelings. Squashing them down until they were practically figments of his imagination…hopeless _memories_ of a fondness he had forced himself to forget. Ethan hardly knew _why_ he did it…it really was some desperate attempt of his mind trying not to get his heart broken, since he couldn’t shake the fact that hardly everyone he knew had been homophobic at his school. 

So of course it had been a surprise when it all happened. It was the last thing that the young man expected, simply allowing himself to lay down against the concrete and confess absolutely _everything_ that was on his mind. Ethan didn’t want it to evolve into something more than it already was…something that could well enough drive him insane with _longing_. Letting himself release all of his thoughts, his chest seemingly becoming lighter and lighter as the weight was lifted off of him, everything he had ever wanted to say _finally_ being confessed…it was the best feeling in the world; even if there was fear lingering in the far corner of his mind, part of him felt as if he just needed to get it over with. Almost as if he would be… _content_ with everything ending. If Ethan had pushed it any farther, he would have known that his entire life would have been shattered. He could allow himself to get wrapped up in his fantasy, and he could allow himself to strengthen the friendship he had with Mark…but what would happen when Ethan just couldn’t take it anymore? When he would _need_ to tell his friend about everything he was feeling, risking their entire friendship. The young man had known that waiting was one of the most selfish things in the world, not to mention the fact that he could lose everything if the feelings weren’t reciprocated. God, Mark and Charlotte had slowly managed to become his entire life over the past month. He didn’t know what he would do without them.

That was the whole reason he had allowed himself to put everything on the line…because, if everything ended with just a snap of their fingers, at least Ethan wouldn’t say that they had held a space in his heart for over a year. Although that spot would become vacant nonetheless, he knew that it wouldn’t hurt him as much…that he could walk away easier now than he could in a few months. That was all Ethan had been thinking about…making it easier on himself and on Mark. In an act of pure desperation, he had allowed himself to just look up at the sky…finally letting the comforting warm colors calm his nerves, his eyes twinkling from the sun. The young man had acted as if his friend wasn’t lying beside him, listening to every word that he uttered, something Ethan had considered almost pathetic. He simply pretended it was just him…alone…as if he was talking into the mirror, trying to convince himself on how he could explain everything to Mark. That had been his only way around it, because he knew he would have backed out too soon.

Ethan hadn’t even known what he had expected from the older man when he was finished. If anything, the only thing he had assumed would be the fact that he was unemployed. Sure, it was something that could be seen as petty, but the young man would have understood. After all, if he was making Mark uncomfortable…surely the man didn’t want him around his daughter. That made enough sense for him to grasp. Maybe the man would have just gotten up and left, leaving Ethan to sit up alone on the roof with his cup of coffee as he stared out at the skyline, wishing he had just managed to find a way to keep his mouth _shut_ and to get those thoughts of his head. In all scenarios, of course…the two of them stopped being friends. It was an awful thing for Ethan to think about, even if it was _irrational_ , but at the time it made perfect sense. Of course…the _last_ thing Ethan had expected was for Mark to kiss him; for his friend to just lean over, cupping his cheek and gazing at him with a longing the younger man had never seen his eyes flicker with before…and for him to just lean down and do something the young man _wished_ he had been brave enough to do the night before. Having the ability to taste Mark’s bitter, unsweetened coffee on his lips, simply craving _more_ , was beyond what Ethan could have anticipated. To find their lips moving together, both of them practically smiling in unison. It was… _breathtaking_. Their noses brushing gently against each other, Ethan hardly being able to contain his giggling for over twenty seconds, Mark knocking his cup of _coffee_ over when he shifted too far to the left.

It was perfect. It _still_ was perfect as Ethan found himself sitting in Mark’s lap, the fabric of the older man’s shirt balled up tightly in his hands, the young man having formed fists around it. The older was resting his hands on Ethan’s hips, their lips moving together as they had before, the young man fighting himself to stop from pulling away and taking large gasps of air. He could feel his lungs _burning_ inside his chest, although his heart thudded gently beside them. There was no one who could convince the young man otherwise…this was Heaven. This was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Ethan was practically melting into him, his shoulders practically limp despite his grip, his body tilted forward just ever so slightly in attempts to get more from Mark. The young man could feel the older licking into his mouth, and it’s _everything_. The older man pants were most likely stained with coffee, along with the toe of Ethan’s shoe, but neither of them cared. They could worry about that later…for now, the two of them were just kissing as if they wouldn’t be able to for the rest of their lives. As if the second they stopped, everything they had just experienced, even their thoughts, would be gone forever. Ethan had honestly lost track over how long they had been like this, taking soft, long breaths in between as they allowed the seconds turn into minutes, passing by without a single care in the world. Because nothing else mattered during those seconds…Ethan couldn’t recall a time where he had ever felt so alive.

The young man pulled away from Mark again, although their foreheads remained pressed together, and he sucked in a few deep pants. Shit, the older man was going to be the death of him. Ethan carefully allowed his hands to snake up to Mark’s shoulders, feeling the older man press their noses together gently in return. The brunette simpered shyly in return, his eyelids only halfway open as he allowed himself to just soak in pure _bliss_. This was all he had wanted for the past week…he wasn’t going to just throw all of it away at the next chance he got. God, Ethan would drag this out all day if he could. Neither of them had really spoken a word since the young man had confessed how he felt; instead, they had allowed themselves to get wrapped in the way the other’s mouth felt against theirs. Sinful…heavenly…intoxicating. The young man was no stranger to kissing someone, it wasn’t like Mark had been his first…but he couldn’t remember a moment in his life where he had _ever_ kissed someone like that…where he had obtained the mental capacity to kiss someone for that long; to not care about anything else in the world except the person he was with…it was a feeling Ethan would never take for granted. If someone had told him a week earlier that he would be making out with his best friend on the top of a fucking _apartment building_ …he would have burst out into hysteric fits of laugher and shrugged it off. It was completely surreal…part of him still couldn’t believe it was happening. If the young man woke up a few seconds later, a cold sweat dripping down his neck as he lay almost motionless in the sofa-bed…he wouldn’t even be surprised.

That hadn’t happened, though. Miraculously, Ethan found himself still with Mark, not even knowing what they would do afterward, but he didn’t care. His mind was clouded with pure bliss and ecstasy, his heart thudding loudly in his chest to the point where the young man would have been convinced that the older could hear it. Heavy enough to ring in his ears, which were starting to become as flush as his cheeks. Ethan could hardly explain how he was feeling…God, all of this was so _foreign_ to him. It was almost the same emotion he had experienced during his first-ever kiss…the confusion, the excitement, feeling as if he was on top of the world, even though he was doing something millions of people did daily. God, the young man knew well enough they probably weren’t the only ones kissing on top of an apartment building in New York City, either. Yet, despite everything, it was special. _Beyond_ special. Ethan wouldn’t trade this feeling for all the money in the world, or any other possibility he could be granted with. This….the feeling that was surging through his veins as he allowed himself to glance up at his hands…was worth every penny he could spend and then some. Worth more than his paycheck, that was for sure. Ethan sucked in a heavy breath, leaning back in again and pressing his lips lightly against Mark’s. Fuck, he didn’t care if they wasted the entire morning…that was the _least_ of his worries. 

Mark kissed him back slowly for a few seconds, his lips barely moving before he pulled away gently. The young man swallowed a whine, his heart fluttering in his chest as he allowed himself to wait. Ethan obviously wasn’t going to force anything. He glanced up from the older man’s chest, looking the man in the eyes and almost melting as Mark gazed back at him. 

“Don’t you think we should…I don’t know…talk about this?” Mark questioned hesitantly, his voice breathless as it trailed off, almost as if it was being swept up with the soft breeze. The young man shifted a bit on the older’s lap, cocking his eyebrow slightly. What was there to talk about really? After all, it was obvious they liked each other…friends didn’t just make out on the roof for over ten minutes, just for the sake of it. Ethan had already confessed everything, so it wasn’t like the man needed a further explanation as to why the younger felt the way he did…everything had been laid out, plain and simple. He liked him…he _assumed_ Mark liked him back…and they would just go from there. It was easy. At least, Ethan could only _conclude_ that was the case. After all, relationships had been pretty basic in high school…from the ones the young man had allowed himself to observe, at least. It usually started when one boy asked a girl to the dance ‘as friends’. Bullshit, obviously, because that’s most likely never the case. Either way, by the following week they were dating, and there was never anything more to it. Without even going on a single date, they were proclaimed ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’, and no one else batted an eye. That was the norm. However, Ethan was starting to realize that the high school dating norm _probably_ wasn’t the exact same for the real world.

“Talk about what?” Ethan breathed out. He didn’t know if it was a moment of desperation or just the fact that he was naive, but he leaned in again for another kiss. Heat of the moment probably, but the young man didn’t care. They would have all day to talk about this. Why waste this? Reluctantly, the older man kissed him back, nibbling gently on his bottom lip as his hands dragged from his hips to the small of his back. Ethan hummed gently against the older man’s mouth, every second of enjoyment trailing on. It was childish for him to ignore Mark’s question, he knew that well enough, but he couldn’t help himself. They could talk in a second…or a few seconds…or a few minutes; the young man didn’t exactly know when, but he would drag this on forever if he could. Ethan moved his lips feverishly, shifting again on the older man’s lap, and Mark simply allowed him, kissing back just as hastily. It was wonderful. Was magical the right word? Surely it was. This was _beyond_ that. God, if only the young man’s first kiss had been like this…maybe he would have gone out of his way to actually make a move on someone when he was older.

“I dunno…” Mark whispered, his voice barely audible as their lips were pulled away once again, the kiss being broken. Ethan shifted in his lap, pulling away a bit more so he could get a better looked at him. The older man wore a weak smile, his eyes clouded with a mix of bliss and confusion. “ _Us_?” He suggested, wincing a bit after he said it, almost as if it pained him to bring the topic of conversation up. The young man pursed his lips, giving the man a comforting squeeze of his shoulders. Mark’s faint smile perked up a little bit as he leaned back onto his hands. 

“What about us?” The younger man returned, shrugging his shoulders a bit afterward. “I mean…what else is there to talk about? This is obviously the start of something… _different._ I wouldn’t exactly call this some sort of friendship anymore, I think we both know well enough that it’s past that, right?” Mark let out a soft huff of laughter, reluctantly nodding his head. “Okay…so at least we’re on the same page with that.” The older man continued nodding his head slowly, his hands trailing down from Ethan’s lower back to his hips again. “And…I’d like to _think_ that you like me…” he continued teasingly, his voice littered with playful undertones. Mark smiled a bit. “So…what else do we need to talk about?”

“Well…I mean…” Mark continued, his voice trailing off awkwardly as he cleared his throat. The young man cocked his head slightly as he waited for him to continue. “I don’t know…just…okay, I’m gonna say it, and God I hate it, but…I mean, what are we?” Ethan paused, biting his lower lip as he pondered the question. “I mean…think about it. One week ago, we’re joking around like we’re friends, and now we’re making on top of the room like we were never even friends, to begin with. We were both _sort of_ dropping hints I guess, and I’m not complaining about anything…but _fuck_ , Ethan…what are we doing? I’m…I’m _serious_ , what are we doing?”

“This is just…the awkward stage,” Ethan admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, the part where both of us like each other…and we _know_ we like each other…but we don’t really know what we’re supposed to do about it. And that’s fine…we don’t _have_ to know what we’re doing. I’m completely new to this, Mark, and I mean, you _might as well_ be new to this. You haven’t dated in six years…I haven’t dated _ever_. You think I know what I’m doing?” He chuckled a bit. “I mean, I don’t know the first _thing_ about starting a relationship. I mean, I’ll get the hang of it, but it’s _okay_ if I don’t know what I’m doing and it’s okay if you don’t know what you’re doing… _neither_ of us knows what we’re doing. And that’s fine. That’s _okay..._ because it doesn’t matter. Do we need to know what we’re doing? We’ll figure it out together. This doesn’t _have_ to be anything if you don’t want it to, and even if you want it to be something…we don’t have to have labels. You get what I’m saying?” Mark smiled weakly, gently reaching over and taking Ethan’s hands in his. The younger man felt his cheeks become flush as he looked at him, his eyes flickering.

“I get what you’re saying,” the older man assured him, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “But I mean…it’s not just that.”  
“Well, then what?”

“This isn’t just about me…” Mark breathed out, almost sadly as he looked off in the distance. “I mean…God, I know this is a lot for you right now, and I hate that I have to do this, because I _get it_. I get why people didn’t want to date me before…why everyone just stopped talking to me and ghosted me once I told them about Charlotte. I understand. They don’t want the responsibility…they want to be able to date someone freely in a relationship without having to worry about something more…a role they might not want to assume. Not everyone wants to be a parent, and a lot of them certainly don’t want to be a parent by _default_. Like…and I get that, but…God, it comes with the label. If you get what I’m saying. You’re not…God, you wouldn’t just be my boyfriend…maybe you would be. I don’t know how far this is going to go, and I _hate_ having to look into the future of a relationship because that’s so awful, but…I have to. You get what I’m saying?” Ethan nodded slowly. “So…I mean, it’s about Charlotte too….and I just don't want to force that on you, cause it’s a lot, but…we can’t start something without keeping her in mind.”

“No, no, I completely get that…” Ethan whispered, leaning over carefully and leaving a small peck against the corner of his mouth. He leaned back again, a sympathetic gaze, flickering in his eyes. “You think I don’t know what I’m getting myself into?” Mark simpered shyly. “Believe me, it’s not the _easiest_ pill to swallow that if this… _us_ …eventually does go somewhere, I’ll have to be a…” his voice trailed off.

“Father…” Mark continued for him.

“Yeah,” the young man confirmed. “A father.” He cleared his throat. “But that’s not now. We don’t have to worry about that now; it’s just another path we’ll eventually have to take when we get there, but we’re _not there_. We’re…here. And we can stay here forever if we want to, but I don’t want to do that to you. I know what I’m getting myself into, I promise.”

“I know we don’t have to worry about it now,” the older repeated, “but we have to _think_ about it. I mean, I’m not the only one getting attached here. I mean, I don’t even _know_ how she’s going to react to any of this. I mean, I know Charlotte well enough, but…well, neither of us have been down this road before since Kaitlyn. Sure, I’ve gone on dates, and I’ve told her that I was going on dates…but that’s about it. She didn’t mean any of the people I took out, not that they wanted to see her anyway, but that was never something she had to worry about. _Now_ , well…I guess this is different. In all honesty, I don’t _know_ how she’s going to react. The other day, she…” his voice trailed off.

Mark sighed.

“The other day she was just sobbing _hysterically_ for Katy,” he continued, his voice breaking at the thought. “I mean, it’s human _nature_ to want your parents' love and affection, and that isn’t any different for Charlotte, even if Kaitlyn isn’t around to give it. A small part of her stills wants her other back. It’s one thing for her to have a babysitter that’s with her constantly, but it’s one thing for her to comprehend that she might have another _father_ …especially if she’s not ready yet. I’ve never even brought _up_ the idea of another parent, because I never thought I would ever get to this point. I’m going to completely honest with you, Ethan…I thought I was just going to spend the rest of my life completely single and alone, never getting in a relationship again. After I stopped going out of my way to get a girlfriend or a boyfriend a little while back…well, I didn’t mention anything to Charlotte. For all she knows, her daddy having a boyfriend is a different thing from her possibly having a father. And although it may _seem_ different…in her mind, she’s going to put two and two together. And if she _does_ get attached in that sort of way, and something _does_ happen between us and we end up breaking up…” his voice trailed off. “I know I shouldn’t be talking about the potential end of our relationship even if it hasn’t even _started_ , but I have to, and I’m sorry, but-”

“Stop apologizing,” Ethan whispered. “You don’t need to be sorry about anything. I get it. You can’t help the fact that you have a daughter, and God, you’re acting like that’s a problem. I mean…I love Charlotte, she’s wonderful-”

“But do you love her like a daughter?” The older man interjected, almost as if he was trying to prove a point. The younger pursed his lips, remaining silent for a few seconds before not saying anything at all. “That’s the thing, Ethan. You don’t love her like a father would love a daughter…and you might not. That’s the thing. And you don’t _have to_ , but if this is going to continue-”

“ _Mark_ ,” Ethan interrupted, grinning a bit. “Believe me…I understand. And…I don’t care. I don’t care if you have a daughter. I love her to death. She’s wonderful, and I think that if I were able to be in a relationship with you…” his voice trailed off, a faint simper growing on his lips. “I dunno, I just…I think I could do it. That whole…God, I don’t know… _father thing_.”

Mark snorted.

“What?” Ethan chuckled, giving him a playful shove. “You don’t think I could do it?”

“Mm, didn’t say that,” the older man whispered teasingly, leaning up a bit so he could gently peck Ethan’s lips. The younger man allowed him, giggling a bit afterward as the man returned to his original position. “I don’t doubt it.” Ethan smiled with appreciation, shifting a bit before crawling off of the older man’s lap, sitting beside him. 

“Well…I guess we’ll just have to see,” Ethan admitted, pursing his lips as he allowed himself to look off into the distance. The sun hadn’t exactly made its way completely into the sky, or anywhere near there, but it wasn’t merely peeking over the horizon as it had been previously. The young man tilted his head to the side, resting his temple gently against the older man’s shoulder, sighing contently to fill the silence in between them, just for a few seconds. “I don’t want to put a label on anything…” the brunette continued, his voice trailing off warily as he cleared his throat awkwardly, not knowing how he was supposed to address this, “…but are we…you know?”

A pause.

“I mean, if you want,” Mark returned softly. It was an unspoken word between the two of them, something that the young man didn’t think he would be able to experience in his lifetime…but it was more than enough to make him happy. Ethan reached over, gently taking Mark’s hand in his and giving it a small squeeze. “We don’t…we don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready. We can just be…I don’t know, two dudes who are more than friends but not dating?” Ethan giggled a bit.

“Mm, do you wanna be two dudes who are more than friends but not dating?” The young man teased.

“I mean, I would rather _not_ be that,” the older admitted, chuckling a bit afterward. “But if that’s what you’re looking for, I wouldn’t mind.”

Ethan pondered the thought for a few seconds. He supposed it _was_ something to think about, and it was obviously something he could take into consideration. The wonderful thing about him and Mark, though, was the fact that they hadn’t just met. They weren’t in the _awkward_ awkward beginning stage of a relationship because they had known each other for a month. Sure, it wasn’t exactly flowing completely natural, but that was to be expected. It was just nice that they could…maybe put a label on it if they wanted to, and it wouldn’t appear too desperate, because _God_ staying over at Mark’s apartment for dinner for weeks was enough to be a date. “No…no I like the term dating…” he whispered, a justified nod of his head. “It…suits us.”

Mark let out a soft huff of laughter.

“You think so?”

“Mhm,” Ethan confirmed, nodding his head slowly. He reached over for his cup of coffee, his fingers lacing gently around the handle as he brought the rim of the mug to his lips. The young man took an eager sip, almost surprised by the fact that it was cold to the touch, even though he knew well enough that leaving a mug neglected in the breeze would do exactly that. Ethan giggled a bit, swallowing down the now almost refreshing beverage as he glanced over to Mark. He stifled his laughter once he saw the coffee stain beside the older an, from when he had knocked the mug over. “Do you want some of my coffee?” Ethan questioned, gesturing his head gently down to his cup. “I mean, it might be a little bit sweet to your liking…and cold…but beggars can’t be choosers, you know?”

Mark rolled his eyes good-naturedly, reluctantly reaching over for the mug of coffee. Ethan giggled gently, passing the cup over. The older man took it in his hands, the younger pressing a kiss against his shoulder and just feeling absolutely content. So this was what it meant to like someone…it was a feeling that had once been so foreign to Ethan, to the point where the young man wasn’t even sure he was meant for it…but now all he could think about was how he had missed out on this for so long. It didn’t have to mean anything extraordinary between them…just simply being beside Mark and knowing that the older man liked him back was more than the brunette could ever ask for. Hell, he didn’t even think he would make it this far; even when he was confessing everything, his voice caught in his throat, he could have sworn that the little voice in his head would get the best of him. That the degrading thoughts would force Ethan to stop speaking, just for the sake of him being cowardly. The young man was so glad he had blocked that part of him out, though…he knew well enough it wouldn’t be for good, but the man would enjoy every second of his current dauntless nature. Ethan glanced over at Mark, giggling softly as the older man took a sip, his lip curling a bit as his nose wrinkled in retaliation. The man swallowed reluctantly, handing him back the mug with a grimace.

“First of all…it’s _cold_ ,” Mark mentioned. The young man couldn’t help but giggle as he rested the mug of coffee aside, pursing his lips as he listened to the older man. “Second of all…too sweet.”

“Sorry that I don’t take my coffee _disgusting_ ,” Ethan teased, laughing whole-heartedly. Mark rolled his eyes good-naturedly, although he smiled afterward. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, everyone has their own taste in coffee…but I personally would rather drink something that tastes nice instead of something that…doesn’t taste nice.” The older man let out a dramatic huff, almost as if he was offended. “I’m just saying!” The young man giggled, leaning on him again.

“You’re just sayin, huh?”

“Mhm,” the brunette confirmed, pursing his lips gently before he allowed himself to smile. Ethan allowed his trail of thoughts to just go blank for a few seconds, his eyes fixed on the sky…but he wasn’t thinking about anything. It was a weird thing to describe, if the young man had to be completely honest; just sitting there motionless, thoughtless…completely silent as the world passed by throughout the seconds. It was peaceful, though…comforting, if anything. Just him and Mark, sitting on the top of an apartment building roof…Ethan’s temple rested contently on the older man’s shoulder, the fingers of his right hand still laced loosely around the handle of the coffee mug that rested beside him, and his heart thumping steadily and wonderfully in his chest. The morning had been perfect…God, it wasn’t even over. It surely wasn’t past nine o’clock, since they had just been there to watch the sun begin to rise the sky…it couldn’t be past eight. “Mm, we should probably head back,” Ethan whispered softly, a gentle sigh following; it wasn’t one of content, or of sadness…it was just him letting the air out of his lungs. “I would hate for Charlotte to wake up and find we aren’t there…” his voice trailed off lightly as he glanced up at the older man, who gave a small nod of agreement. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Mark returned, nodding again as he exhaled heavily, almost as if he was allowing himself to take everything in one last time…as if he wouldn’t see it again. He glanced over at the young man. “We can’t tell her…” he whispered softly, his voice serious now as he shifted. Ethan looked at him with a flicker of confusion in his eyes, not quite sure he understood. Nevertheless, though, he remained quiet; the brunette watched as the older man swallowed thickly, almost as if he himself was conflicted on the statement. “I mean…I _want_ to tell Charlotte, don’t get me wrong…” Mark continued, a nod of reassurance before his voice trailed off again. “It’s just…well, this is the start of things, you know? Nothings official…I mean, _it is_. I think. Right?” His words came out with stammered awkwardness, like some teenage mess in high school who wasn’t sure if he knew how to kiss someone.

“If you want,” Ethan murmured.

“Yeah…yeah, okay,” Mark breathed out, sucking in a heavy breath and obviously recollecting his thoughts. The young man looked down at his hands. It wasn’t like he had an itching… _burning_ desire to tell Charlotte that he was, well…God, why was everything so complicated? They had thrown the words ‘boyfriend’ and ‘dating’ around, but for some reason, it seemed like this taboo thing that they couldn’t even talk about. If they _were_ dating…or _going_ to date, for that matter…Ethan wanted the young girl to at least have some idea. After all, she was a part of the household…she had just as much of a right to know, considering her life could possibly be affected by it as well. “I just…I don’t…” he sighed. “Why is this so fucking confusing?”

“I dunno,” the young man admitted, shrugging his shoulders as a faint smile peeked up onto his lips. He knew he shouldn’t be finding the situation funny, but he just couldn’t help himself. They were two grown adults, perfectly capable of talking about their own feelings, yet they had somehow managed to practically _dodge_ the entire topic entirely. Sure, Ethan had confessed about how he had felt…but that was where they had seemingly drawn the line. They weren’t boyfriends, the young man wasn’t even sure if they were using the term ‘dating’, considering they had only vaguely agreed to the idea…it was just so much more complicated than it needed to be. It was like elementary school drama, where everything could easily be sorted out in a simple conversation, although everyone seemed to be avoiding it. This was so different. “I mean, I have to backtrack on all of this, but _fuck_ dude…what are we?”

Mark let out a soft huff of laughter. Ethan took a sip of coffee.

“Two men who don’t know what they’re getting themselves into…” the older breathed out simply, a faint hint of familiarity in his voice. The young man simply blinked, not knowing what to say in return. He supposed this was… _much_ more complicated than a high school relationship. Sure, there was the carefree making out…but that was about where the line was drawn in the sand; the common ground, to say the least. And hell, as much as Ethan _wanted_ this to be easy as a high school relationship…that wasn’t how things worked. The real world was cumbersome…dating meant more than just sharing a kiss. Of course, Ethan would always remind himself of the fact that it always helped how they had known each other prior. “I mean…I guess the most complicated part of this question is the fact that it’s not like I have free time for a _dating life_. I have work during the week…I don’t want to have to drop Charlotte off at daycare just so we can go out for lunch or something.” Ethan nodded in understanding. That was beyond fair. In no way would the man _ever_ want to come between the relationship that Mark shared with his daughter. That wasn’t his place…it would never be his place. “God, if only I had found you before I started _working_.”

Ethan giggled. “Well, taking everything into consideration, I probably would have been a _teenager_ …”

“Fair point,” Mark admitted.

The young man smiled, although it faded, forming an almost blank expression as he stared off at the distance. “So…” he breathed out warily, gently reaching down and intertwining his fingers with Mark’s, “…we don’t tell her?”

“That’s the plan,” the older man returned. “Is that…is that okay with you?”

“Not my decision to make,” Ethan whispered, glancing over at the older man, squeezing his hand gently. And it wasn’t. “I mean…you’re her father after all. You get to decide what she knows and what she doesn’t know. If you don’t think she should know…then I won’t tell her anything.” The brunette smiled weakly, leaning over to press a gentle kiss on Mark’s cheek. “I…I want this to work out. _Us_.”

Mark smiled shyly. “Me too…”

“I guess it is kind of hard though…” the young man continued, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, think about it. You’re around Charlotte all the time, so we can’t really _act_ like we’re a couple in front of her…and then you have work, so even when you’re _not_ around her, you’re busy. This is basically just going to be us acting the same around each other, except we know that we like each other. Like that awkward phase of every mutual crush.” Mark chuckled a bit. “I’m serious, Ethan continued, sucking in a heavy breath before sighing again. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. It’s not like I’m gonna be upset about it or anything, it’s just…well…I’ve never _dated_ anyone before. And, well, you know…I guess I would just rather we be able to act like it and stuff, instead of hiding it.”

Mark was silent for a few seconds.

“You’ve never dated anyone before?” He questioned hesitantly.

“Nope…hookups don’t count,” the brunette murmured in return, pursing his lips. “But yeah, I’ve never…never really had the whole _dating_ experience. I mean, I was pretty much in the closet for a majority of high school…I couldn’t really ask anyone out. And, even if I wanted to, I doubt that there were _any_ gay kids in school. I mean, who am I kidding. I _know_ that I was the only gay kid at that school. College wasn’t really any different. I’ve never actually had a boyfriend.” Mark glanced over at him, his eyes flickering with something close to disbelief…almost as if he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Ethan had never been with anybody else. Hell, it wasn’t the best thing the young man wanted to admit; he was twenty-four, after all. It was around the age where someone either found themselves in a serious relationship, or they were _starting_ a serious relationship…of course, most of the time it also came with at least two previous relationships from high school. Ethan had never been introduced to that, though…of course, jumping right into it didn’t seem like it would be _too_ difficult. “But, I wanna start here…this is a good start,” the young man continued, pausing and smiling to himself. “This is a _perfect_ start.”

“I…wow…” was all the older man could manage, almost as if he was bewildered. Mark was silent for a few seconds, almost as if he was uncomfortable. Did it really bother him that the young man had never dated anyone before? Ethan hoped not…he couldn’t really change that after all. “You’re wasting your first boyfriend slot on _me_? I mean, I’m not complaining…I’m the one winning in this scenario. It’s just…well, I dunno. Seems like you should be dating someone who doesn’t have a kid…someone who lives alone and can give you all the time in the world…”

Ethan sighed dramatically, smiling a bit as he shifted. The young man scooted a bit closer, turning slightly before crawling onto the older man’s lap, straddling his legs. Mark simpered sheepishly, glancing up at him with a shy expression fixed in his eyes. “God, sometimes you never know when to shut up,” he young man teased, although he felt a sense of appreciation. It was nice for the older man to be thinking about him like that…but the brunette didn’t _want_ anyone else. 

“Is that so, pretty boy?” Mark cooed.

“Aww, you think I’m pretty?” The young man asked dramatically.

“Mhm,” the older admitted. “ _Unfairly_ pretty.” Ethan felt his face go flush, even more so when the two of them had been kissing only a few minutes ago. He couldn’t help but giggle in return, nuzzling Mark’s nose gently with his, pressing their foreheads together lightly. “Didn’t you say something about the two us heading back a few minutes ago?” The older man questioned teasingly. Ethan smiled a bit, nodding his head shyly before crawling off of Mark’s lap. The man sat there for a few seconds, shifting a bit before reaching over for his knocked over coffee mug, which he hadn’t even bothered fixing the second it had been knocked over. Ethan let out a sot huff of laughter as he watched him pick up the cup, a few drips of coffee continuing to drain down the side. “This wouldn’t have happened if you could just kiss me _politely_ instead of crawling on top of me,” Mark mentioned, although it didn’t seem like he had an ounce regret flowing through him. A smile peeked up in the corner of Ethan’s mouth.

“Yeah, well,” the young man retorted, “I don’t remember you complaining.”

“There’s a stain on my pants.”

“Aww, boo hoo,” Ethan teased. “You can change them.”

Mark smiled a bit, reaching down for the young man’s hand to pull him up. “I swear to God if you pull me down…” he breathed out, almost as if it was supposed to be threatening. Ethan couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle as he reluctantly reached over, grabbing the older man’s hand before carefully pulling himself to his feet, holding his almost empty mug of coffee in his free hand. “So…maybe we can do this more often,” he mentioned, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean…well, depending on how early you can get here some days. I wouldn’t want you to have to set your alarm any earlier just so you can walk all this way to see the sunrise, something you can do by yourself…but if you ever happen to get up a little earlier than expected…well, you know. You could come over if you wanted to. I mean, I wouldn’t mind.”

Ethan grinned. “That would be wonderful,” he admitted, glancing at the older man shyly. Mark returned the smile, reaching over for his hand before leading him back over to the door that would take them down the same flight of stairs they had gone up only an hour ago. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would invite you over to my place, but…” his voice trailed off. “You know, it’s small… _old_. Hell, at least, it _looks_ old as shit. I would walk in there and assume it was built in like the 70s, you’d swear from all the chips in the paint and the cracks in the ceiling.” It was obvious the older man was stifling his laughter, biting his lip to conceal his smile. “Feel free to laugh,” the young man prompted. “It’s shit.”

“ _Well_ , I won’t give you the satisfaction of being humored,” Mark teased. Ethan rolled his eyes good-naturedly. The older man reached for the door of the stairwell, gesturing his hand down. “After you,” he continued. The young man hummed underneath his breath, shifting over before he made his way down the stairs. “We came up these stairs as just two friends,” Mark joked, “and now look at us.”

Ethan scoffed playfully. “Whatever you say, Romeo,” the man remarked in return, turning on his heels as he waited for the older man to start walking down. Mark smiled, almost proud of his joke, before he started walking down the stairs after him. “I should probably get going once we get back to the apartment,” the young man continued softly, sucking in a heavy breath. As much as he wanted to stay, Ethan knew well enough he needed to get out of Mark’s hair. After all…he had been there the entire weekend. Sure, it wasn’t like he had been in the way or bothered anyone, and he surely wasn’t going to _start_ doing that…but the man just didn’t want to intrude. “I mean, obviously I’m gonna help you fix the sofa-bed, I’m a good guest…but I can’t stay here forever.”

Mark gave a half-smile. “I mean, you don’t have to leave so early,” he prompted, pursing his lips slightly. “You can always leave tonight.”

“That’s what you said yesterday,” the young man returned. “And then I ended up staying the night… _again_.” The older man remained silently, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Besides, this is new, remember? We’ve been spending a lot of time together recently, and we have to get things back to how they were before. You only let me stay over that one time because it was cold out, remember? This isn’t a habit I should be making for myself. Granted, I already stay over for dinner during the week, sometimes even long enough to watch a movie or play with Charlotte for a few more minutes while you finish up work. It’s not like I _live with you_.” Mark shrugged his shoulders. “Well, what’s that supposed to mean?” Ethan continued softly. “I mean, don’t you have input on any of this?”

“Of course I do,” Mark mentioned softly. “It’s just…I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

“Well, surely you must know something,” Ethan insisted. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean, think about it. I don’t know when you and your ex-girlfriend started dating, and you don’t have to tell me any details because it’s not like I’m dying to know…but surely you two weren’t fucking living together the first day you started dating?”

Mark chuckled softly. “I’m asking you to stay the _night_ …on the _couch_ ,” he teased. “I’m not asking you to move in with me.” 

“I know that, I wasn’t insinuating anything,” the young man continued. “I’m just saying that we shouldn’t be spending so much time together when we’re just starting stuff out, you know? I don’t wanna grow bored of you before anything even begins.” The older man smiled weakly, although his eyes were filled with understanding. Ethan supposed the first week of this would be the most confusing, but surely they would figure something out. “Maybe I can stay the night occasionally…but I don’t want this to be any different from any starting relationship. You know…the ones where they each live respectably in their own apartment…” his voice trailed off, a playful smile plastered on his face afterward.

“I was just asking for you to stay the night on a couch!” Mark exclaimed, a smile of disbelief on his face as he rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Mm, I know,” Ethan mentioned. “I’m just saying.”

Mark smiled, opening the door for Ethan that lead them into the hallway. The young man slipped through, waiting patiently for the older to follow after him. “I also don’t wanna rush anything in general,” Ethan continued quickly, even though he knew there wasn’t really a whole _reason_ for them to touch on that subject matter. He just felt the need to, though. “I mean, I know that we already see each other every day, and we might think that seeing each other more often is the same as seeing each other a handful of times over a month…but it’s not.”

“Believe me, I know how to not rush a relationship,” Mark returned.

“You have a kid,” Ethan giggled.

“Well, you know, things happen,” the older man mentioned. The younger nodded in understanding. “Believe me though…I’m not gonna push for us to rush anything. If anything, I wanna take this slow… _enjoy it_. I mean, I haven’t kissed anyone in like… _six years_ , cause let’s be honest, who kisses on the first date? I may have dated people, but it’s not like we were snogging by the end of it.”

The young man grinned sheepishly. 

“Was I your first kiss?” Mark questioned teasingly.

“No, asshole,” Ethan returned, giggling softly as he took the older man’s hand, leading him carefully over to the elevators. “Don’t get too cheeky on me. You’re my first…boy…friend?” He asked it slowly, quickly clearing his throat. “Person that I like, who likes me back, and we both know about it,” he corrected.

Mark rolled his eyes playfully. “Sure thing,” he teased, pressing the button to the elevator. “You know, you don’t have to be so awkward about this whole thing,” he explained, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he glanced at Ethan. “I know this is new for you and all…but I mean, hey, if you want something…all you have to do is ask.”

“What would you be insinuating?”

The older man sucked in a heavy breath, the analog number of each floor slowly going up as the elevator ascended to their level. “All I’m saying is…” Mark continued, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, almost as if it didn’t make a difference, “if you want to be… ‘boyfriends’, or whatever…all you have to do is ask. I mean, it’s just a label, it won’t hurt you. It doesn’t make us any more… _official_ , and it doesn’t make the relationship worse or better. Just a label.” Ethan nodded in understanding, looking down at his feet as he waited for the elevator to get to their floor. There was a long pause between the two of them, silence lingering. “So…do you?”

Ethan glanced up from the ground.

“Do I what?”

Mark swallowed thickly. “Do you wanna call me your boyfriend?” He asked softly, almost as if he was unsure of the question himself. The young man thought about it for a few seconds. It was almost too surreal to be true, if Ethan had to be honest. It was something he had romanticized in his mind hundreds of times over…but now that it was something he was actually able to do, well…it almost seemed wrong. Not that it _was_ wrong, it wasn’t. Mark was right, after all. The word was just a label someone would use to describe someone else. It didn’t make them more or less official, it didn’t change the outcome of whatever would happen between them, and it wasn’t like they were going to bring each other up in conversation often. It was just an option that was available to the young man at the moment…it wouldn’t make that much of a difference if he decided to take advantage of it or not. Ethan finally shrugged his shoulders, not really sure what he wanted. God, why did he have to be so awkward about this? It wasn’t even that _big of a deal_.

“Do _you_ wanna call me your boyfriend?” Ethan pondered.

Mark gave a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Person I like, who likes me back, and we both know about it it is,” he decided. The young man gave a sympathetic smile.

“No…we’ve known each other long enough, and it’s not like we’ll have the time to go out on, well… _dates_ ,” the brunette interjected, clearing his throat. “I…I like… 'boyfriend’.”

There was a short pause.

“Me too,” Mark admitted. Ethan smiled a bit, not really knowing what he was supposed to say before the elevator opened with a ding. The older man stepped aside, allowing him to enter first, which the younger did reluctantly. He allowed himself to sigh contently as he leaned back against the wall of the elevator, pursing his lips together as Mark followed in after him. “Did you happen to bring your phone with you?” Mark continued, patting the back of his pockets once he realized he didn’t have his own. The young man shook his head in return. He hadn’t thought to. “I seriously don’t even know what time it is. I…I’d like to _think_ that we weren’t out for long, but I honestly don’t even know. It was a little before seven when we left, I think…but then we stayed out there and just talked, and I don’t know how much time was passing when we were kissing and all, and…” his voice trailed off as he sucked in a heavy breath. “God, it must be well into the morning by this point.”

“Well, what time do you think it is?” Ethan questioned, cocking his eyebrow.

“I…I dunno,” the older man admitted, reaching over and pressing the button to the floor where his apartment was. He quickly reached over, pressing the button to close the elevator door furiously, nearly about five times, before the doors finally gave in and shut. Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, now beginning to notice the concern that flickered in Mark’s eyes. “I mean, God, I just wasn’t thinking about it. We got so wrapped up in everything, and the next thing you know we’re talking, and then we’re kissing, and then we’re talking again, and then we’re actually having a _full conversation_. And then you _told me_ that we had to get going, but I just didn’t listen because I thought we could stay up there for a few more minutes…” Mark sucked in another heavy breath, running his hand through his hair. “I mean, for all I know it could be nine o’clock by now. That’s not exactly _early_ in the morning.”

“Well, what time does Charlotte get up?” The young man whispered. Mark stood there for a few seconds, breathing softly before he tilted his head back, pressing his hands roughly against his face before brushing them back through his hair, practically clutching his own scalp as he shifted with discomfort. That was more than enough of an answer for the brunette to realize that the older man was worried about his daughter. “Shit…” was all Ethan could breathe out, not knowing what else to say in the situation. God, he just wished that the elevator would go down faster. “I’m sorry, Mark, when…when I said we should have gone back down, I should have been persistent.”

“It’s not your fault,” was all Mark could manage. It was obvious he was itching to get out of the elevator. “I… _fuck_ , I should have been more responsible.”

“You’re more than responsible…”

“Obviously not…” Mark choked out. He looked beyond frustrated with himself, his hands still tangled in his own hair. His eyes were wide with something similar to fear…God, it looked as if he was going to have a panic attack. “I mean, you said it yourself this morning…you were worried about Charlotte. God, I wasn’t even _thinking_. I’m her _father_ , and I wasn’t even thinking!” Ethan remained silent, not daring to allow himself to interfere with the older man’s ranting. Although he knew well enough that calming him down would be the next best thing to do…part of him was frightened. “Fuck, could this elevator go any _slower_!?”

“A few more seconds on the elevator won’t make any difference,” Ethan whispered hesitantly.

“I know,” Mark snapped. He sucked in a heavy breath, finally taking his hands out form his hair before his shoulders sagged ever so slightly. “I know,” he repeated, this time his voice more comforting…not as firm and aggressive as it had been before. The young man shifted, not knowing if he was supposed to say anything or just allow the two of them to stand there in silence. “I’m just…fuck, I’ve never really been in this situation before. I’ve never been… _stupid enough_ to leave her in the apartment by herself, especially without telling her. God, I should have at least left a _note_ or something. I know big words are challenging for her, but I could have at least figured something out. I…I don’t even know what I was _thinking_! Now, I don’t even know if she’s awake or asleep; hell, I don’t even know what time it is! I mean, for all we know she could have woken up the second we left…and then what? She’s just sitting alone in the apartment by herself?”

Ethan sucked in a heavy breath. “She’s a smart girl,” he reassured the older man. “I mean, hell, it’s not like she’s gonna be touching any outlets or anything. The stove is too high for her to reach, she won’t put any plastic bags on her head. I’m sure she’s-”

“I’m not worried about her being in physical danger,” Mark choked out, letting out a sigh of frustration. “Sure, I mean, that’s just as bad…but what could she possibly be _thinking_ right now? Both her father and her babysitter left without saying anything, she’s home alone, they didn’t leave any note for her or inform her of _anything_ the night before…” his voice trailed off. Ethan’s heart sunk in his chest when he remembered the way Charlotte had cried when she thought Mark wasn’t coming back. He shifted again, gripping the rail of the elevator a bit tighter. “ _Fuck_!” Was all he exclaimed, since both of them knew well enough no one else would hear them.

“Don’t panic…” Ethan insisted.

“Don’t panic?” Mark cried, almost as if he was offended by the suggestion. “My daughter is home alone, and if she’s awake…well, she’s probably thinking that I’m never coming back. God, this is a fucking disaster.” The elevator doors opened. “Thank _fuck_!”

Mark practically stumbled out of the elevator, Ethan trailing behind him. He sucked in a heavy breath, his heart now beating rapidly in his chest. Part of him couldn’t help but feel guilty; he knew well enough that the older man had talked him into this, and that the older man had ignored his statement to go back downstairs, and that the entire _idea_ had been fabricated by him…but the young man just couldn’t help himself. After what had happened the night the older man had been at the meeting…God, Ethan had just hoped that would never happen again. Ethan quickly rushed after Mark, now standing behind them as the two of them stood in front of the apartment door. The older man reached frantically into his pocket, fishing around until he found his apartment key. The younger man took the mug from Mark, holding both in his hands as he waited impatiently for the door to be open. The older man fumbled with his key, muttering swears underneath his breath when it didn't unlock automatically. “For fuck’s sake, _open_ ,” he mumbled. Ethan bit his lip, releasing the breath he had been holding the very second Mark threw open the apartment door. Within an instance, they were met with muffled sobs…coming from Charlotte's room. “ _Shit_ ,” was all the older man could manage.

Ethan watched as Mark practically threw off his jacket, leaving it on the door as he dropped his keys beside the hat stand. He didn’t even bother taking off his shoes as he took off toward’s his daughter's room. The brunette, however, allowed himself to linger back. He closed the door behind them, although his heart was still in his throat. How they had managed for this to happen was beyond Ethan…God, how could they have been so stupid? The young man walked over to the sink, resting the coffee mugs at the bottom, brushing his hand through his hair. Part of him wanted to go in after Mark…but at the same time, it almost didn't feel appropriate. It wasn’t his place after all. Instead, the young man worked on picking the jacket up off from the floor, taking his shoes off, and resting them against the wall of the door. The brunette winced when he heard the sound of loud sobs now coming from Charlotte’s room. 

Ethan finally sighed, pulling away from the kitchenette and making his way over to the young girl's room. After peeking into the room hesitantly, his eyes softened at the sight of Charlotte on Mark’s lap, facing him, sobbing hysterically into his shirt. The older man was rubbing her back gently before resting his hand in her hair, whispering gently in her ear in attempts to soothe her. The brunette leaned against the doorframe, shooting the older man a sympathetic glance. It was obvious to the two of them that the young girl has been crying like that for quite some time. With the guilt littered in Mark’s eyes, it was apparent he felt awful about the entire ordeal. 

“Shhh,” was all Mark could manage, keeping his own breath steady as an example to calm her down. “Everything’s alright…we’re back now. Me and Ethan are back. We would never leave you, honey. Never ever.” The young man shifted awkwardly, not knowing what he was supposed to say. He felt terrible. “We just went out for a little bit…we didn’t think we would be gone for so long. It’s okay, Daddy’s here…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, honey I didn’t mean to not be here when you woke up….so _so_ sorry.” He rested his chin on top of his daughter’s head, sucking in a heavy breath and just holding it in his lungs for a few seconds, almost as if it pained him to breathe. Charlotte was practically _shaking_ against him…it felt like a punch in the gut just watching the scene unfold in front of him, where Ethan didn’t even know if it would be appropriate to _help_. What could he possibly do? _Nothing_.

“I’m never gonna do that again, I promise…” Mark continued. “I _swear_ I won’t. Please don’t cry honey, it’s okay…you’re okay.” The older man gently kissed the top of her head. “I love you so much, sweetheart, I would never leave you…not now, not ever… _never_. I would rather…give away _everything_ I own than lose you.” Ethan’s heart softened as he paused at the doorway, knowing now to keep his mouth shut because this conversation was meant for a father and a daughter…not for a girl and her babysitter. “I’d quit my job for you in a heartbeat…and I know you don’t know the importance of that right now, but that means a lot.” He kissed her forehead again. “It’s okay, honey…I’m not going anywhere.”

Ethan listened as Charlotte’s sobs trailed off into a series of hiccups, the young girl not saying much as she buried her face in her father’s shoulder. The young man supposed this was his signal to leave. All he had to do was straighten up the sofa-bed, and then he would get going. There wasn’t really any other reason for him to stay…sure, Mark had offered before, but now it seemed like it would be best if it was just the two of them alone. The moment didn’t need to be ruined by those who were just in the way. The brunette smiled a bit though when he realized that Charlotte had calmed down; he hated having to listen to her cry, especially since he knew what a sweet girl she was, and how her father would never intentionally do anything to make her upset. After another pause, Ethan allowed himself to pull away from the doorframe, stepping back into the hallway again. He hadn’t brought much with him, so he supposed it wouldn’t be too difficult to straighten everything together. However, the brunette stopped in his tracks when he heard Mark let out a simple “Ethan” from his daughter’s bed. The young man glanced up from his feet, looking over his right shoulder at the older man, whose eyes flickered with curiosity. Ethan hummed in return, to show he had acknowledged his name being called, shifting a bit.

“Could you…well… _would_ you stay a bit?” Mark questioned hesitantly, still rubbing his daughter’s back gently. “Not for long, just…a little bit.”

Ethan swallowed thickly before slowly nodding his head. “Of course,” he whispered, shoving his hands in his front pockets. Mark gave a steady nod in retaliation, returning his attention to his daughter as he continued whispering in her ear to get her to stop shaking. The young man stood there for a few seconds, his gaze lingering on Mark and Charlotte before he pulled away again, making his way over yo the living room. He supposed it was time to _at least_ get the couch back to its original state. Ethan hummed underneath his breath, carefully picking the pillow upon and tossing it onto the chair, working on pulling off the blankets and sheets. The morning hadn’t exactly gone as planned, but he couldn’t explain. If anything…well, it was an opportunity for Mark to confirm all of the things that Ethan promised Charlotte; about how her father wasn’t going anywhere, and how he loved her…she needed to hear that directly from him. Not just from her babysitter. Ethan carefully stripped the mattress of the sheets, folding them carefully and resting them on the table, reaching down so he could fold the couch back to where it should be. However, he perked up when he heard the sound of someone’s phone ringing. It certainly wasn’t his…if he had to make a guess, it must have been Mark’s.

Ethan redirected his attention from fixing the couch to walking over to the kitchenette, where the ringing was coming from. Sure enough, on the kitchen table, Mark’s phone was buzzing, accompanied by the option to confirm or deny the call. The young man peered down at it, reading the name on top to see if it was just a number, or if it was someone from his contacts. _Andrew Thompson_ was all it read. The brunette swallowed thickly. It must have been important if it was someone who was worthy enough to get their name saved in Mark’s contact list. After a few seconds, the brunette reached over for the phone, quickly turning it on silent so it would stop making that obnoxious ringing noise. However, Ethan held it in his hands for a few seconds…the least he could do was tell Mark that someone was trying to call him. God, it _had_ to be important. He held it loosely in his hand as he walked back over to Charlotte’s bedroom, poking his head in the doorway. The older man looked at him, giving a half-smile.

“Uh…someone’s calling you,” Ethan mentioned.

Mark paused, looking down at his daughter, who let out a hiccup. He glanced back up at Ethan. “Decline it.”

“Are you sure?” The young man questioned hesitantly. He didn’t want Mark to miss something that could potentially be important. He looked back down at the contact again. “It says it’s from…” he read the name. “Andrew Thompson?” Ethan returned his attention to Mark, who’s eyes widened a bit, his pupils dilating. The older man paused, almost as if he felt conflicted. “Look, if you need to take this call…I can hold Charlotte for you. I get it…it’s probably work, right?” There was silence between the two of them, the phone continuing to vibrate in Ethan’s hand. “It’s not that big of a deal, I promise. You got that promotion recently, and there’s gotta be a lot on your plate, so-”

“Decline it,” Mark insisted softly. “This is more important.”

The brunette gave a watery smile. “If you say so…” he whispered, pressing down on the red button, the call declining. The older man gave a small nod, the two of them standing there in silence before Mark cleared his throat. “Yeah, you’re right,” Ethan mentioned. “I’ll get outta your hair. I still got the sofa-bed to fix, might as well straighten up the-”

“C’mere,” Mark breathed out, gesturing his head over to the empty space beside him. Ethan sucked in a soft breath, giving a half-smile before he nodded his head.

“Okay…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello again.  
> I took a break, as you can obviously tell, you get everything squared away. I wasn’t busy, I’m gonna be honest, but I just needed to take a break, and I hope you guys understood that <3  
> But I’m back now, so it’s okay!  
> Anddd, a little bit of a longer chapter. Hope you guys don’t mind those  
> Final statement, I’m gonna be replying to every comment down below, so if you guys have any questions about this fic that you wanna have answered, now is the time. And, if you wanna just post something appreciative like you usually do, that’s fine too <3
> 
> Love you always,  
> Simply!
> 
> P.S.  
> Fucked around a lil and changed my pfp for the hundreth time. Might keep it like this. Kinda like it


	35. A Minor Inconvenience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back

_“For fuck’s sake,_ open _,” Mark breathed out, fumbling with his keys as he attempted to unlock the door, already finding himself stringing out an assortment of swears as he tried to open the door. Still no luck. God, why did the apartment have to buy such shitty doors? And why did the door only ever want to remain closed the_ second _the older man needed it, and_ desperately, _to be open? It was almost as if the universe was working against him. Had he gotten too cocky after receiving the promotion? Was this some sort of twisted punishment? Making him regret every single second that passed as he stood outside his own apartment door, twisting the key in the lock furiously because he knew well enough that his daughter was probably already awake. It had been a lost cause from the start…trying to get back on time. Mark knew now that he should have listened to Ethan’s comments of worry; the younger man had_ warned him _that he didn’t want to go out if Charlotte would wake up when they weren’t there. The older man had simply shrugged the statement off, of course, thinking nothing of it._

_All Mark had been thinking about at the moment was how he just wanted to spend the morning with Ethan…although he wasn’t sure if his intentions were for brownie points or just to watch the sunrise, he had enjoyed it. Every second of it. However, maybe a bit too much, the older man was starting to realize. It was just the savory rush of adrenaline that he couldn’t get enough of…the feeling of Ethan’s hands on his chest, balling up the fabric of his shirt as the two of them leaned into each other’s touch. It was something that he himself could hardly get enough of it…kissing Ethan was intoxicating. Everything about kissing him was almost numbing…almost every sound around him was seemingly drowned out…practically blurred. It was something the older man could get lost in…he_ had _gotten lost in it. That was the entire reason why he had allowed time to fly by so fast…why he hadn’t been aware of how long they had been on the roof together. Mark didn’t exactly_ regret _any of it, so to say…he had loved every second go ecstasy…but he just wished he had_ listened; _listened to Ethan when the young man requested they go back…listened to his gut when the voice in the back of his mind begged him to go back downstairs to the apartment. The fact that he couldn’t even listen to himself…God, he felt like a fucking awful parent. Good parents weren’t supposed to do this…good parents didn’t even leave their child alone in an apartment in the first place._

_And now, here he was. Standing on the other side of a locked apartment door, his heart racing in his chest. Mark felt like he was going to have a fucking panic attack, and Ethan stood carefully beside him, not saying a word and holding the older man’s coffee mug. The younger man had done his best to try and calm the older down throughout the entire situation, ever since they were in the elevator, which hadn’t seemed like it was even moving fast enough. Ethan insisting that it wasn’t his fault, as if those words even make a difference…as if that_ statement _just diminished the wrongdoing Mark was convinced he had committed. The older man had never been in this situation before…never had there been a time in his life where he had allowed himself to be this forgetful. This wasn’t even on the same_ level _as forgetting his phone in his apartment and having to go back for it, or leaving his briefcase in his cubicle and having to walk all the way back to his office building. This wasn’t in the same ballpark…God, it wasn’t even the same fucking_ sport _. It was quite frankly_ embarrassing _to admit that he had let the time fly so fast, but being humiliated was the least of his problems. That didn’t even matter to Mark…he just wanted to make sure his daughter was okay._

_After the incident with waking up to Charlotte absolutely sobbing in the middle of the night, pleading desperately for her mother…God, he knew that this would be no different. Mark knew his daughter well enough to understand that this was fucked up, and this wasn’t something she would just brush off her shoulder. He knew that the second she had woken up…she had probably panicked. The man had never seen his daughter panic before, although he had witnessed the aftermath, so he wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to expect…how he was supposed to handle it. He had witnessed tantrums, and incidents of his daughter accidentally knocking her head on the edge of the countertop, which only ended in a fit of tears…but this was different._ He _had caused this pain. That by itself was enough to make Mark sick to his stomach. There had never been a major instance he could recall where he had_ truly _caused his daughter to be in a fit of tears. Sure, there had been the time he hadn’t believed her story about Ethan not eating anything, or when he had accidentally lost one of her favorite stuffed animals in the apartment…but nothing this severe. What was he supposed to say? What_ could _he say? And, even if he did say anything, would it be enough to calm her down? And why wouldn’t this fucking door open!?_

_Mark let out a half-sigh of relief as soon as the lock finally clicked. Within the following second, he had seemingly thrown the door open, practically stumbling into the apartment the second after. That was when he heard her…Charlotte. Just sobbing. It was muffled, yes, but that didn’t make the situation any better. The older man’s heart immediately sunk in his chest, his stomach practically churning, seemingly twisting itself into a knot. He quickly shifted to pull off his jacket, throwing it aside without a second thought to it. Mark didn’t care if it was just sitting on the floor…it didn’t make a difference. That wasn’t what was important. The man felt his keys slip loosely out of his grip, landing onto the floor with a soft clang. After a few seconds of attempting to force his shoes off, forcefully pressing the toe of one shoe against the heel of the other, he simply pulled away from the door to race to his daughter’s room. The older man didn’t know why he was panicking as much as he was…his daughter was_ safe _, he knew that well enough. Yet, despite himself, Mark could feel the adrenaline_ pumping _. His heart felt as if it was going to beat straight out of his chest…he felt like he wasn’t getting enough air. The man allowed himself to suck in a heavy breath before pushing the door to his daughter’s bedroom open, his heart only sinking further._

_He let out a soft breath, leaning hesitantly in the doorway. The reason the crying was muffled wasn’t just because it was behind a door…it was because she was hiding underneath the covers, sobbing into the sheets. “Char…” was all he could manage, his shoulders drooping slightly at his sides. A soft sputtering sound came from underneath the blanket, as if his daughter was attempting to stop. The blankets shifted a bit, and Mark almost felt physical pain the second Charlotte started crying again. He didn’t waste another second, quick walking over to sit at the edge of her bed, his heart having risen to his throat. Part of him felt as if he couldn’t even speak. This was his fault. “Baby, it’s okay, I’m here now,” the older man whispered. “You’re okay, honey, please don’t cry. You’re okay, everything’s okay. Daddy’s here, it’s okay.” A few seconds passed, his daughter continuing to just_ wail _…he didn’t even know what he was supposed to do. “Honey…”_

_Charlotte tossed the blanket off of herself. Mark sat there weakly, his bottom lip curling sadly the second he saw her. Her cheeks were slick with tears, a few strands of hair sticking to the side of her face, which practically crimson at this point. The older man feared that his daughter was just going to leave the room…he would understand, of course. After what he did, the man didn’t know if Charlotte wanted to be anywhere near him. However, that didn’t happen. The young girl simply threw herself into her father’s arms, clinging to him almost desperately before she started sobbing into the fabric of his shirt. The man sat there for a few seconds, almost surprised, before he gently rested his hand on her upper back in attempts to calm her down. “It’s alright, everything’s okay,” Mark whispered, sucking in a heavy breath, a shuddering exhale following. Part of him was just thankful that his daughter wanted to be near him. “I’m never gonna do anything like that ever again…I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” The older man felt his daughter loosely wrap her arms around his shoulder, continuing to cry into his shoulder. Mark carefully stroked her hair, not saying anything for a few seconds, moving from attempting to apologize to calming her down. The man could explain everything later…he just didn’t want his daughter to be upset. Seeing Charlotte like this physically hurt him…Mark could hardly stand it…especially knowing he had caused it._

_“You…wuh-weren’t…huh-here,” Charlotte choked out, sniffling as she sucked in a heavy breath, letting out a choked breath before she continued shaking again. Mark swallowed thickly, screwing his eyes shut tight for a few seconds before drawing in a heavy breath before he continued stroking her hair._

_“I know, I know…” the man whispered, gently kissing the top of her head and holding her. “I know, and I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Mark rested his chin gently on his daughter’s head, allowing himself to just close his eyes for a few more seconds, his heart no longer racing inside of his chest as forcefully as it had before. Even if it was just for a bit…he felt calm. A little more relaxed. Mark shifted a bit on the bed, noticing Ethan standing in the doorway out of the corner of his eye. The young man shot him a sympathetic glance, obviously not knowing what he was supposed to do or say in that situation. Mark couldn’t blame him…he felt bad enough having all of this happen, especially after how much they had enjoyed themselves on the roof. Having it be a mood-killer was the least of his problems, of course. He didn’t care about any of that…he could only hope that Ethan still wanted to be around him._

_“Shhh,” Mark continued softly, forcing himself to keep his breath steady in attempts to finally calm his daughter down. “Everything’s alright…we’re back now,” he repeated, gently. “Me and Ethan are back. We would never leave you, honey. Never ever.” The young girl wiped her eyes on his shirt, her sobs more broken than they had been before, most of the space being filled with her trying to catch her breath. “We just went out or a little bit…we didn’t think we would be gone for so long. It’s okay, Daddy’s here…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, honey I didn’t mean to not be here when you woke up…so_ so _sorry.” Mark took in another deep breath, holding it in his lungs and only exhaling when his daughter let out a hiccup instead of a wail. “I’m never gonna do that again, I promise…I_ swear _I won’t. Please don’t cry honey, it’s okay…you’re okay.”_

_Mark kissed the top of her head._

_“I love you so much, sweetheart, I would never leave you…not now, not ever…_ never _. I would rather…give_ everything _I own than lose you. I’d quit my job for you in a heartbeat…and I know you don’t know the importance of that right now, but that means a lot.” There was a small pause. “It’s okay, honey…I’m not going anywhere.”_

_The older man gave a soft sigh as he listened to Charlotte’s crying slowly transition into a series of hiccups. It wasn’t a sigh of relief, or of misfortune, or even frustration…it was just a sigh of_ peace _. “That’s it…” he breathed out gently, rubbing his daughter’s back. The young girl didn’t look up from his shoulder, although the man could feel her slowly relaxing. Mark found himself calming down along with her, his stomach no longer in the twist it had been in before. The man couldn't stand seeing his daughter upset. It was always something that made his heart hurt…always made him feel like he wasn’t being good enough of a father. Although he knew well enough that he was doing his best, it was always something that worried him…the fact that he might_ not _be a good enough father. What if his best wasn’t even that good at all? All Mark wanted in life was for his daughter to be happy…he would give the entire world just to see her smile. Knowing that he was the reason Charlotte had been sobbing…_ hiding _underneath her covers…it felt like it was physically crushing him. The man didn’t even know if his daughter was aware of_ how much _her father loved her…maybe she didn’t even think it at all. That was one of Mark’s worst fears…Charlotte not understanding how much he truly cared about her._

_The man looked up from his daughter as he heard the sound of the floorboards shifting ever so slightly; Ethan had moved away from the doorway, leaning into the hallway. It was obvious that he was leaving the bedroom, but Mark wasn’t sure if he was going to the extent of leaving the_ apartment _. Although he couldn’t exactly blame him, considering how awkward the situation must have been…part of him didn’t want the young man to leave. Mark didn’t know I that was selfish, or weird, or controlling…but part of him just didn’t want to be alone. He knew well enough that he was with his daughter, and she was more than enough to make him happy…but after everything that had happened, the man felt as if he needed someone else there…someone like Ethan. Reluctantly, as Mark watched the younger man turned to go, he cleared his throat. “Ethan?” He questioned hesitantly, hoping that the man wouldn’t be too upset with him._

_Ethan glanced back over his shoulder, cocking his eyebrow slightly and letting out a hum of acknowledgment. The older man shifted on the bed, clearing his throat again before he continued speaking._

_“Could you…well…_ would _you stay a bit?” Mark questioned, giving an awkward, yet hopeful, smile as he awaited an answer. It wasn’t anything that he wanted to pressure Ethan into, considering how much of a help the younger man had been just by being there…but he did want to get his point across. “Not for long, just…a little bit.” There was a short silence between the two of them, the young man shooting him a sympathetic, understanding gaze. After another few seconds, Ethan gave a slow nod of his head, not before swallowing thickly._

_“Of course,” he murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets. Mark sucked in a small breath, giving a quick nod of his head before glancing back down to his daughter. Already, he found himself beginning to relax, just by knowing that his best friend…someone even more than that…wouldn’t be going anywhere. Although, the older man would have to come to terms with the fact that Ethan couldn’t stay there forever. After practically insisting that the man stay the past few nights, it would be almost selfish to continue and pressure him into sleeping on the sofa-bed. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but Mark knew well enough that Ethan would probably rather be sleeping in his own bed. It wasn’t even that, either…just being able to be_ home _was something the young man was probably missing…all because the older kept pushing for him to stay. It had been maybe acceptable for him to offer the first time Ethan came over, when it was cold outside and walking back to his own apartment would have been a miserable experience…but making up some bullshit excuse about how it was going to rain pushed it a step too far. Sure, he supposed everything worked out fine in the end, but still._

_Mark watched as Ethan disappeared into the hallway, probably going back to the living room. The older man glanced down at his daughter, smiling to himself when she was finally starting to show signs of being almost completely calmed down. However, she was yet to pick her head up from his shoulder, continuing to conceal her face. Mark wasn’t going to force it, though. If she didn’t want to look at him, then she didn’t have to look at them. He wouldn’t allow himself to go anywhere until she was ready herself; after all, calming her down was just part of the process. It was also his duty, as the father that he_ wanted to be _, to stay with her. Being alone definitely wouldn’t do anything great for her, and Mark knew well enough that he would have to have a conversation with his daughter as to_ why _he would never leave her, and as to how he would never leave her…and as to why she wouldn’t ever have to worry about the subject matter, to begin with. That would be saved for a later hour in the day, though. It was obvious Charlotte had no intention of actually speaking, let alone holding a conversation._

_The older man straightened up as he heard a faint ringing sound coming from either the living room or the kitchen, he honestly couldn’t tell which. However, he allowed himself to ignore it. After all, it was probably Ethan’s phone. Mark continuing gently stroking his daughter’s hair, his legs falling asleep for the second time as he had been sitting there. That wasn’t any of his concern, though…it was the_ least _of his problems. “You feeling any better?” The man questioned hesitantly, giving his daughter a sympathetic gaze, even though she wasn’t returning it._

_A small pause._

_“I dunno,” Charlotte murmured. It was soft, to begin with, but also paired with the fact that it was seemingly muffled into the fabric of his shirt. He gave a hesitant nod, even though she couldn’t see it, and continued stroking her hair._

_“Are you…are you mad at me?” Mark continued._

_No answer._

_Fair enough._

_The older man didn’t say anything else, keeping his mouth shut as he continued to sit with his daughter on his lap. Once again, he didn’t allow himself to coax her off, even if his legs were honestly starting to ache. Mark only looked up from his daughter when he saw Ethan poking his head into the doorway, holding out a phone…_ Mark’s _phone. It was silent, but the older man could see that someone was calling it, although he could make out the contact name. He sucked in a heavy breath. The only people who ever seemed to call him were Ethan and those he worked with, especially now with the whole promotion thing. Of course, it obviously couldn’t be the younger man, so that only left the option of a co-worker. “Uh…someone’s calling you,” Ethan mentioned._

_Mark didn’t say anything for a few seconds, glancing down at his daughter. She let out another hiccup. The call was probably just someone he barely knew congratulating him on the promotion, or asking if he wanted to keep in touch or reach out for business project ideas. After all, those were the calls he had been promised, or more-so_ warned about _, by his boss, Mr. Thompson. Surely this one wasn’t anything important. So, he looked up from Charlotte to Ethan. “Decline it,” he decided.”_

_“Are you sure?” Ethan questioned, his voice almost hesitant. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking down at the phone screen once more. “It says it’s from….” a pause, “Andrew Thompson?” He said it almost like a question, as if to ask whether or not that person was anyone important. Mark’s eyes widened ever so slightly. His boss had already reached out both in person, via email, and once already over the phone to congratulate him on the whole promotion, despite the fact that he had been the one who’d_ given it _to him. It obviously wasn’t something as trivial as that, to say the least. Mark bit his lip slightly. God, what if it was something really important? He couldn’t just start a record of_ missing calls _, after all, especially considering how he had_ just _managed to score the promotion. It surely wouldn’t make him look good…it could even ruin his reputation in the company. However, the older man allowed himself to look down at his daughter again…he couldn’t just push her aside. He had_ promised himself _that he wouldn’t do that. Mark’s daughter meant more to him than anything in the world…the fact that he had even humored the thought of taking the call almost disgusted him._

_“Look if you need to take this call…I can hold Charlotte for you,” Ethan continued, holding out the phone again, in an almost tempting manner. “I get it…it’s probably work, right?” A short pause. Mark could almost_ hear _the phone vibrating. “It’s not that big of a deal, I promise. You got that promotion recently, and there’s gotta be a lot on your plate, so-”_

_“Decline it,” Mark repeated gently, giving a confident nod as he glanced down at his daughter for a split second. “This is more important.” The older man watched as Ethan’s eyes crinkled with a watery smile, glancing back down at the phone in his hand._

_“If you say so…” he breathed out, finally declining the call. The older man felt a wave o relief wash over him the second he heard the phone stop bussing to attention. Each of them resided in silence for a few seconds. It was obvious that neither of them knew how to continue the conversation…if there even_ was _a conversation to continue. Nevertheless, Mark cleared his throat, despite the fact that he had nothing to say. “Yeah, you’re right,” Ethan added quickly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’ll get outta your hair. I still got the sofa-bed to fix, might as well straighten up the-”_

_“C’mere,” Mark whispered, hesitantly gesturing to the empty space on the bed beside him. He wasn’t going to allow the younger man to speak as if he was a burden. After all, the brunette was_ far _from it. Ethan shifted, almost as if he was surprised by the offer. Nevertheless, though, he smiled, obviously appreciating the gesture._

_“Okay,”_ the younger man managed, giving a hesitant nod of his head before he carefully started his way over to the bed, almost as if he was disrupting something. Mark smiled in an almost welcoming way, hoping that his daughter wouldn’t mind the presence of the brunette. Either way, the young man sat down beside him, wearing an almost awkward smile. “Is she okay?” Ethan mouthed, obviously not wanting to embarrass the young girl by asking the question aloud, something Mark would allow himself to appreciate. It was a kind gesture, to say the least. Reluctantly, though, he gave a half-shrug of one shoulder in return. He didn’t really know…it seemed as if his own _daughter_ didn’t even know I she was okay. He just hoped that she wasn’t mad at him….the older man wouldn’t understand, though. Mark certainly wasn’t going to begrudgingly guilt his daughter into forgiving him right that second, making it seem as if he hadn’t done anything wrong in the first place. He _had_ done something wrong…and he could only pray that she was willing to look past the fact that he had _royally_ fucked up. Beyond repair? Most likely not…but still.

“You feeling any better, Char?” Ethan asked hesitantly. The older man felt his daughter tense up slightly against his hand, although she relaxed the following second when she realized who it was. However, she didn’t respond. The young man looked at Mark nervously, an almost worried, yet somewhat sympathetic, gaze flickering in his eyes. “What do we do?” He mouthed. The older man returned it with another sad shrug.

“I don’t know,” he mouthed simply. It was the truth…he _didn’t_ know. Mark had no _idea_ what he was supposed to do. Nothing like this had ever happened before…he had been wise enough in the past to never put himself, or his daughter for that matter, in this dreadful position; an almost one-sided conversation, where the child would hardly answer any of the parent’s questions…sort of just _dully_ existing for the time being. Mark sucked in a heavy breath. He had no right to complain, of course. This was his fault. He had done this, and there was no way he could twist the scenario to make it seem like he was in the right. Because, at the end of the day, all paths lead back to the fact that he had been _painfully_ forgetful. This wasn’t even something he could partially blame on Ethan, either, not that he wanted to. After all…the young man was a babysitter, sure…but he wasn’t Charlotte’s father. It wasn’t his responsibility to be worrying about her every single day, especially on the weekend…a day where he should have been at home. 

Mark almost flinched when he felt his phone buzzing beside him again. He glanced down at it reluctantly, his heart moving to his throat when he realized it was Mr. Thompson calling again. Yep…it certainly wasn’t just some ordinary phone-call of congratulations. 

“Mark,” Ethan whispered softly, pressing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The older man didn’t say anything. “Look at me,” the young man insisted, squeezing gently. The man glanced over at him, noticing how the brunette wore an awkward smile. “I’m serious, Mark…I’ll take care of it. It’s obvious that this phone call is important…I mean, you’ve been really busy recently and everything…you should be focusing on getting everything off your plate before you add something to it. Don’t you think?” A pause. “Sometimes you have to pick and choose your battles, and I just think that if I can hold Char-”

Mark reached over for the phone with his free hand, declining the phone-call.

“Mark…” the young man breathed out.

“None of that is important right now,” the older man insisted softly, not allowing himself to spare his phone even a second glance. He knew what was important… _Charlotte_ was important. And, despite the fact that he knew well enough any sane human being would have accepted that phone-call in a heartbeat…he wasn’t going to do that. Mark wasn’t going to even allow himself to _think_ about work, or what his boss possibly had to say, until his daughter was in the mood to actually speak to him. Pushing her aside so he could accept a phone call obviously wouldn’t do anything to help the situation…so he wouldn’t do that. Ethan looked at him in an almost pitiful way…was he… _disappointed_? However, the younger man said nothing, giving a simple shake of his head. 

The older man felt a rush of frustration seemingly boiling through his veins as his phone started buzzing again. Mark didn’t even need to spare it a single glance to know who was calling him; Andrew Thompson. His boss was relentless, and the man _knew_ that meant it was important…that he should pick up the phone and just answer his call. Just pass Charlotte off to Ethan in less than a second and have everything squared away with the company…claim that he had simply forgotten to write down the contact information, and that he thought it was a random caller. He could be in the clear. But Mark didn’t do that. Instead, the man reached over for his phone, immediately going to hold down the power button.

“Mark,” Ethan hissed.

He didn’t pay any attention.

“Mark, you don’t know what you’re doing,” the young man continued lowly, resting his hand on the older’s shoulder again, his voice almost _pleading_. “It must be an important call if he keeps trying to get your attention.” But Mark didn’t listen. He didn’t know _why_ he wasn’t listening…but part of him just couldn’t. The reason his daughter had been crying in the first place was that he put his own excitement over something so _trivial_ before her. So, when the “slide to power off” option became visible on the screen, the man didn’t hesitate to slide the power button to the right, watching as his phone-screen shifted to a deep blue, finally turning black the following second. Mark held his phone in his hand or a few more seconds, not knowing if it was out of triumph or regret, before placing it beside him. The only reason he didn’t chuck it across to the opposite side of the room was that he didn’t want his daughter to be startled. Finally, Mark rested his chin gently on top of her head, letting out a sigh of relief and just holding her as he had before. He could see Ethan looking at him with astonishment out of the corner of his eye, but he paid it no attention. The young man was probably bewildered by his actions, without a doubt, but he didn’t care. Mark didn’t know _why_ he didn’t care…but he didn’t.

“I could have held her for you…” Ethan whispered.

“I know you could have,” the older man returned. “But that’s my job.” 

There was a short silence between the two of them, both just breathing peacefully. Mark wasn’t entirely content, but he wasn’t upset either. His eyes flickered slightly as he felt the young man carefully resting his hand on his, both of them continuing to sit in silence. Hesitantly, the older man intertwined their fingers, neither of them saying anything. The older man glanced at the younger, feeling his cheeks go flush when Ethan was already looking back at him. Mark felt a faint simper grow on his lips, his heart fluttering ever so slightly in his chest as he squeezed Ethan’s hand. And, for some foreign reason…it was just as good as a kiss. They couldn’t exactly do that, since Charlotte was sitting on his lap…but they could hold hands without it being entirely noticeable…and Mark wouldn’t allow himself to pass up that opportunity.

“You’re a good man, Charlie Brown,” Ethan whispered.

Mark cocked his eyebrow, stifling his laughter. “Thanks?” 

The young man smiled a bit in return, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s a compliment,” he explained softly. The man had assumed as much. “It’s something you say when…well, when you want to tell somebody that they’re doing a good job, more than their best…but you don’t know _how_ to say it without getting all sappy on them. And I didn’t want to get all sappy on you, so…” his voice trailed off for a few seconds, “…so, you’re a good man, Charlie Brown.”

Mark gave a watery smile, his eyes crinkling with affection as he looked back at Ethan…his _boyfriend_. It was something that he considered odd even thinking about, but in the best way. He had said it before, but it was the truth. It was so entirely surreal, and it made him _so_ incredibly happy. Mark didn’t even realize he had started to cry until Ethan reached over to wipe the tears away from underneath his eyes. The older man let him, eventually wiping his own eyes with the back of his hand. “Thank you…” he returned, his voice less questioning than it had been the first time he had said it. Ethan just smiled, giving a small nod of his head. After a few seconds, the young man leaned over, gently resting his temple against the older man’s, just for a few seconds, and giving his hand another squeeze. Ethan gave a content sigh before pulling away, squeezing his hand again before carefully letting go. 

The two of them just sat there in silence for another minute, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The young man had propped himself against Mark’s shoulder. 

“Daddy…” 

Mark looked down at his daughter, his heart rising a bit in his chest. The young girl had pulled away slightly, looking down at her hands, almost with embarrassment. The older man felt Ethan squeeze his shoulder slightly. “Yeah?” Mark breathed out.

“I’m sorry…” Charlotte mumbled.

The older man’s shoulders dropped down slightly, watching as his daughter wiped her eyes with her wrist, sniffling a bit before swallowing thickly. “Hey, look at me,” Mark breathed out gently, watching as his daughter hesitantly shifted her attention back up to him. The man gave a reassuring smile, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about, okay? I was the one who wasn’t back in time…that’s not your fault.” The young girl gave a slow nod, almost as if she wasn’t too sure of the statement herself. “I love you very much, honey…you know that, don’t you?”

A pause.

“You know I love you, right?” Mark questioned softly.

Charlotte gave a slow nod of her head. “I know,” she murmured. “Love you too.”

The older man finally felt his anxiousness and stress melting away as he looked down at his daughter. He wasn’t sure if she was completely alright, but it was definitely a wonderful first step. “And, I know I said it before, but I’m serious…I’m not going anywhere. I’m never gonna leave you, angel. I would _never_ do that to you.” His heart still stung a bit knowing that his daughter _truly_ believed he had abandoned her. “Don’t ever forget that…okay?”

Another pause.

“Okay…”

∞§—————§∞

Mark leaned back carefully against the frame of the couch, allowing himself to finally let out a content sigh. After what had seemed like an eternity, the man had finally managed to get his daughter to give a _genuine_ smile. The entire wait, of course, it felt like his heart had slowly been chipping away in his chest…part of him was worried that she wouldn’t smile _ever_. Of course, it was an outlandish fear; it was near impossible for someone to never smile again, especially if they were a child, but it was a thought that had loomed in the back of Mark’s mind nonetheless, repeating over and over how if that happened…it would be all his fault. If Charlotte never smiled again, it would be his fault, and he would somehow have to live with himself knowing that. All childish, he knew that well enough, but he just couldn’t _help it_. He had the right to worry, after all, considering he was her father…and considering he _knew_ he messed up. Either way, though, it had finally happened. Mark had simply been messing around with a piece of paper while Charlotte had been coloring, which had lead to him ripping a bit of his own off, crumpling it up, and flicking it at her nose. Luckily, it had been enough to make the young girl giggle, which just about melted his heart the second after. He loved hearing his daughter laugh _regardless_ …but hearing her do it for the first time all day was more special than he would have thought.

Ethan hummed softly, scooting over to sit beside him. Mark glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, a shy smile plastered on his face the following second. “Hi,” he whispered softly, the young man smiling a bit in return as he carefully pressed their shoulders together, leaning against him ever so slightly.

“Hi,” Ethan murmured back. The older man couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter inside his chest. Mark slowly followed the young man’s gaze, noticing how his eyes were fixed on Charlotte, who was continuing to color in an assortment of coloring pages scattered across the coffee table. “I think she’s feeling a bit better,” he continued softly, pursing his lips for a few seconds, giving a justified nod of his head. “I mean, she’s still a little quiet…but I think she’s doing good so far.”

The older man gave a sad smile. “Yeah…” he breathed out, sighing softly, although he nodded his head all the same. “Yeah, she’s doing good.” Ethan glanced at him hesitantly, a thin tension beginning to brew between the two of them as they sat there in silence, each of them occasionally glancing at the young girl…almost as if it would help them find the words that were going unsaid. The young man opened his mouth to say something, only to close it once he cut himself off. It was apparent to the older man that Ethan had something to say, although he couldn’t quite manage how to phrase it. Mark glanced at him, almost in an ushering way, his eyes flickering with curiosity as he awaited a statement.

“I know that all you’re going to do is disagree with me,” Ethan continued, his voice wavering before he sucked in a breath, allowing himself to clear his mind. “But none of this is your fault.” Mark opened his mouth to interject, but the young man cut him off. “Don’t say anything,” he advised softly. “I’m not finished.”

Mark shut his mouth. 

“We both were forgetful,” the brunette continued, making sure to keep his voice hushed so Charlotte couldn’t hear. “I might have mentioned it, and you might have briefly acknowledged it…but I forgot too. I know that I told you we should go back, but then _both_ of us got wrapped up in other things…not just you. This isn’t entirely your fault, Mark. And I know that you want to just take all the blame for it, and I’ll never understand why…but you can’t. Because, at the end of the day…it’s my fault too. It’s both our faults. We can argue about it all we want, and you can try to take the blame for yourself, but it wasn’t like I was sitting there urging you ever our seconds to go back downstairs. Mistakes happen…you made a mistake. You didn’t…you didn’t _intentionally_ decide that you didn’t want to go back downstairs. You just-”

“You’re her babysitter,” Mark breathed out, “it’s not your responsibility to be worrying about her when you’re not getting paid.”

“I don’t watch Charlotte because I get paid, Mark,” Ethan mentioned, pursing his lips tightly before finally allowing himself to frown. “I mean, yes, it does help that I’m able to financially support myself at the end of the day…but if you didn’t pay me for a day, it’s not like I would be up in arms. I’m not an asshole.”

“I never said you were,” the older man returned.

“Then don’t belittle me,” the brunette murmured. Mark swallowed thickly, glancing away from him. “I just don’t want you to beat yourself up about this…I might have only known you for a little bit over a month, but I know how you get when you get upset. You blame yourself… _relentlessly_. You don’t stop doing it, and I’m not gonna let that happen. You made a mistake, you realized your mistake, you allowed yourself to feel bad because you _made_ a mistake, and now you’re fixing it. There’s nothing more you can do about it. Shitting on yourself for messing up isn’t going to solve anything, and you can’t go back in time and stop yourself from doing it. So… _please_ …stop feeling bad.”

“How do you know I still feel bad?” Mark questioned as-a-matter-of-factly.

“Because it’s been four hours and you still look miserable,” Ethan explained. The older man sighed. Had it really been that long?

“I just…feel like I’m being a bad father,” he managed in return. Ethan squeezed his hand sharply. “Ow,” he hissed.

“Don’t say that ever,” the young man insisted lowly, his voice serious. “I’m not joking, Mark. Don’t say that again.” The man opened his mouth to protest, but Ethan was quick to continue. “Bad fathers don’t panic in an elevator when they realize they left their kid alone…they don’t drop absolutely everything the second they get in the house to make sure that their daughter is okay…they don’t sit with their child for an hour and deny _three_ work calls. Bad fathers don’t even stop to question if they’re a bad father, because they don’t _care_.” Ethan swallowed thickly. “Now don’t say it again.”

Mark paused.

“I really like you, Ethan…” he breathed out. 

Ethan just scoffed a bit, although good-naturedly, shaking his head almost with disbelief. He smiled a bit, though, despite his slightly furrowed eyebrows. “You’re impossible…” he managed, although he simply gave Mark’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Sorry I broke your fingers.” He gave a soft giggle.

“Really gets the point across,” Mark joked.

“Mhm,” the younger man returned, grinning as the two of them sat there together. After a few seconds of sitting in content silence, it was interrupted by the sound of Mark’s phone buzzing beside him. The older man had honestly forgotten that he had turned it back on, especially considering how it had been quiet for the last three hours; he had only decided to turn it back on after breakfast. Ethan glanced at him before reached over, snatching the phone from Mark. The older man opened his mouth to say something in return, but the younger cut him off. “You’re accepting this phone call,” he insisted, gesturing his head down to the phone, which continued vibrating in his hand. “You’ve denied this person’s calls _three times_ now, Mark. You can’t do that, that’s…that could get you fired. It was fine when you were playing superhero before, but Charlotte is fine now.”

“I wasn’t going to decline it,” Mark insisted, reaching for his phone, but the young man held it out of his reach again. “I can’t accept it if you don’t give it to me,” he mentioned.

“Promise me you’ll accept the call.”  
“Huh?”

“Promise.”

“Fine, fine, I promise,” the older man continued reluctantly, making a grabby hand for the phone. Ethan paused before he hesitantly handed it off to him. “My boss is gonna be pissed…” was all he could manage, allowing himself to stand to his feet. Ethan shot him a look.

“That was your _boss_?” Ethan hissed, a look of exasperation plastered on his face as he shifted to stand beside him. The older man, however, gestured for him not to get up. “I though that was just another one of your co-workers…maybe even an employee of yours,” the young man continued lowly, letting out a sigh afterward. “Mark, I swear to God, you can’t just _do that_. If I had known he was your boss, I wouldn’t have even let you get away with this the first time. This shouldn’t even be debatable.” The older man gave a reluctant nod of his head. The younger man was right…it would be pointless even attempting to argue with him. So, nonetheless, Mark pressed the ‘accept call’ button, bringing the phone to his ear and exiting the living room.

“Hey,” Mark started, clearing his throat and trying to appear as friendly as possible, forcing a smile as I the older man would be able to see it. “So sorry I wasn’t about to catch up with you earlier, something came up, uh, a family emergency.” Technically the truth. He could get away with that. “It was just so sudden, you know? I was going to accept your call, but it just seemed better for me if I declined it. I should have messaged you sooner, I’m sorry, I just got caught up with everything.” He slipped into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, leaning back against it and sucking in a heavy breath. “Again, I am _really_ sorry about all of this. If I had known it would take this long, my first priority would have at least been sending you a text and-”

“What the hell, Mark?” was all the man received. Mark swallowed thickly, remaining silent. “I call you, _three times_. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You don’t email me, you don’t call me back, you don’t bother _texting me_. For _four hours_. Do you know how _embarrassing_ that is for me? I have questions up to my _ass_ from absolutely everyone. No one knows why you’re not picking up, no one else can seem to get a hold of you because the calls aren’t even being _transferred,_ and top it all off, you pick up the phone acting like everything is peaches and cream. You’re lucky human recourses decided to give me a break for once, because I know _they_ would be up my ass if word got out that one of the new applicants decided to go awol. You’re _killing me_ , Mark.”

“I know, I know,” Mark replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. God, he should have accepted those phone calls. “I know it seems bad, but-”

“It _is_ bad.”

“Okay, yes, it’s bad,” he returned reluctantly. “I don’t know what you want me to do. There was an emergency, I wasn’t thinking, and I couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone. I’m sorry. Any other day I would have picked ups the phone, and at any other time, but I just couldn’t. My hands are tied, Mr. Thompson, there wasn’t anything I could do to-”

“You could have _texted me_ ,” Mr. Thompson insisted, his voice filled with obvious exasperation. “It takes two seconds to pick up your phone and text me! Just tell me that you couldn’t be there, I don’t _care_. It would have been much easier for me to explain to my employees that the reason you weren’t present in the conference call wasn’t that we couldn’t reach you or because you didn’t want to be there, but because you had a _family emergency_.” The man’s heart rose up to his throat. He felt like he was about to choke. Conference call? What conference call? Then it hit him like a brick wall…the conference call. The one that he had emailed his boss about just the day prior, reminding him that he _would_ in fact be present during the discussion about expansion…God, he had basically promised him. That was the one he had been reminding himself about throughout the entire night, knowing well enough that he didn’t _need_ to prepare anything, but taking mental notes nonetheless.

“The conference call…” Mark breathed out, resting his left hand on his forehead, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry, that completely slipped my mind. Everyone has been emailing me recently asking me to be present at meetings, and I thought I had organized my schedule and calendar to remind me _when_ things would be happening, but I guess I just didn’t sort everything through. I…if I…God, if I had known there was a conference call I would have been there in seconds, sir, you don’t understand.”

“I understand perfectly, there was a family emergency,” the older man sighed, obviously frustrated, although he obtained just the amount of sympathy that Mark needed. “We’ve all been there, Mark, but now thanks to you we had to reschedule the meeting. It was _imperative_ that you were to be there. This concerned your division…rather your _section_ of the division. If you’re not there, we can’t have the meeting, and if we can’t have the meeting then nothing gets discussed, and then if nothing gets discussed I get about a dozen of my employees emailing me about why their portions of the project haven’t been laid out accordingly. It’s a _tedious_ process, Mark, and it’s only gonna go slower when you _don’t show up_.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” he managed, opening and closing his mouth. “I’m…I’m really sorry.”

“Saying sorry doesn’t fix my schedule,” Mr. Thompson returned. “My assistant had to figure out which _other_ important meeting I had to cancel, just so we could manage to find time for a raincheck. Which we did, _thank God_ , or human resources would have already emailed you an hour after you decided to not show up.” Mark swallowed thickly. He could almost _see_ the potential pink slip he could have received if he hadn’t have been lucky. “You can’t take any of this… _lightly_ , Mark. You’re not at the bottom anymore. More people will see the mistakes you make.”

“What did you tell everyone already at the conference call?” Mark breathed out. “As to why I wasn’t there?”

“I said you were sick,” the older man explained. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you…” the younger breathed out.

“We’ve rescheduled the meeting to Thursday,” Mr. Thompson continued, clearing his throat. “It’ll be in person, same room we were in for the first expansion meeting, the one you did a presentation on. The meeting starts at three in the afternoon, we don’t know how long it’ll go. I’m _sure_ that Eric will already find about another million things to complain about by then, so you’ll have that to look forward to.” He explained the last part sardonically. “ _Don’t_ do this again.”

“Thursday at three?” Mark questioned.

“Yes, Thursday at three,” the older man confirmed. “I don’t care what other meetings you have planned with any of your co-workers, you can skip it. Tell them I gave you permission, that’ll shut them up. I see great potential in you, Mark, but I won’t hesitate to find a replacement if you can’t just… _work_ with me.”

“No, I don’t have any meetings,” the man admitted. “It’s just…” his voice trailed off and he sighed. “I promised my daughter last week that I would take her to the zoo on Thursday. I had everything cleared away so I could get out of work early, and-”

“I’ll have my assistant reimburse you for the fees.”

“I’m not worried about wasting my money on it,” Mark sighed, running his hand hesitantly through his hair. “I just…I _promised_ her that I would take her. And I know it sounds childish, but I don’t break promises, and something happened today and I just…I have to make it up to her.”

“My hands are tied, Mark,” Mr. Thompson apologized.

“Sir-”

“There’s _nothing_ I can do,” the older man returned, although it was sympathetically. “Eric and Alex are already attempting to bring his up a level, and the only thing tiding them over is this meeting on Thursday. If I have to tell them that the reason the meeting was canceled _once again_ was that one of my employees decided to take the day off…” he sighed, “…even _my boss_ will hear about it, and _both of us_ will be in deep shit.”

Mark sucked in a heavy breath. “I understand…” he breathed out.

“So you’ll be there?” 

There was a pause. “Yes,” the man murmured.

“Excellent,” Mr. Thompson continued. “My assistant will organize a way to reimburse you for the fees if you already purchased admission for your outing. Until then, I want you to start doing some research on the Realestate in Brooklyn. I don’t care if it’s an entire building or a few floors. Find us something, maybe make a presentation. And call me back when you’re finished. We’re getting you an assistant.”

“Yes sir…” Mark whispered, hanging up the phone.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long break  
> Whoopsies  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had a lot of fun working on the dialogue, especially at the end. Mr. Thompson honestly has a place in my heart. He can be harsh, but he's understanding, and I love him for that.  
> Thoughts on today's chapter?
> 
> Also, including FFITA obviously, I have currently written over 400k words of Crankiplier...wowie
> 
> Kudos + Comments appreciated,
> 
> Love you always,   
> Simply!


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